"Yes, yes, I know, Susan," fumed the man impatiently, beginning to
pace up and down the room. "And that's just what we're trying to do--
get his strength back."

"But he ain't--he won't--he can't," choked Susan feverishly. "Mr.
Burton, I KNOW you don't want to talk about it, but you've got to. I'm
all Keith's got to look out for him." The father of Keith gave an
inarticulate gasp, but Susan plunged on unheeding. "An' he'll never
get well if he ain't let to get up an' stand an' walk an' eat an' sit
down himself. But Mis' Colebrook won't let him. She won't let him do
anything. She keeps sayin', 'Don't do it, oh, don't do it,' all the
time,--when she ought to say, 'Do it, do it, do it!' Mr. Burton,
cryin' an' wringin' your hands an' moanin', 'Oh, Keithie, darling!'
won't make a boy grow red blood an' make you feel so fine you want to
knock a man down! Mr. Burton, I want you to tell that woman to let me
take care of that boy for jest one week--ONE WEEK, an' her not to come
near him with her snivelin' an'--"

But Daniel Burton, with two hands upflung, and a head that ducked as
if before an oncoming blow, had rushed from the room. For the second
time that day Daniel Burton had fled--to the attic.




CHAPTER XI

NOT PATS BUT SCRATCHES