with a pencil an' paper, an' write 'em out. It's only the spontaneous
combustion kind that comes all in a minute, without predisposed
thinkin'. Now, run along to your pa, child. He wants you. He's been
frettin' the last hour for you, jest because he didn't know exactly
where you was. Goodness me! I only hope I'll never have to live with
him if anything happens to you."

The boy had crossed the room; but with his hand on the door knob he
turned sharply.

"W-what do you mean by that?"

Susan Betts gave a despairing gesture.

"Lan' sakes, child, how you do hold a body up! I meant what I said--
that I didn't want the job of livin' with your pa if anything happened
to you. You know as well as I do that he thinks you're the very axle
for the earth to whirl 'round on. But, there, I don't know as I
wonder--jest you left, so!"

The boy abandoned his position at the door, and came close to Susan
Betts's side.

"That's what I've always wanted to know. Other boys have brothers and
sisters and--a mother. But I can't ever remember anybody only dad.
Wasn't there ever any one else?"

Susan Betts drew a long sigh.

"There were two brothers, but they died before you was born. Then