you."

"Huh," grunted Bobby. "I'm darned glad we was outside of that there
fence."

Maggie's big eyes were eloquent with compassion. "Did--did he scare
yer, too?"

Helen held back her tears with an effort. "Yes, dear, he frightened me,
too--dreadfully."

With shy friendliness, little Maggie drew closer. "Is he--is he sure
'nuff, yer father?"

"Yes," returned Helen, "he is my father."

"Gee!" ejaculated Bobby. "An' is he always like that?"

"Oh, no, indeed," returned Helen, quickly. "Father is really kind and
good, but he--he is sick now and not wholly himself, you see."

"Huh," said Bobby. "He didn't act very sick to me. What's ailin' him?"

Helen answered slowly, "I--we don't just know what it is. The doctors
say it is a nervous trouble."

"An' does he--does he ever whip yer?" asked Maggie.

In spite of the pain in her heart, Helen smiled. "No--never."