CHAPTER XXXIII.

UNDER THE CRUST OF A HUMAN HEART.

“What’s the matter?” asked Frank.

Little Jack dropped down on a chair, panting for breath.

“He--he followed me!” gasped the lame boy.

“He? Who?”

“My uncle.”

“Hicks?”

“Yes.”

“Oh! don’t let him come in here!” exclaimed little Nell. “Please keep him out, Frank! I am so afraid of him!”

“Don’t worry, little girl,” assured Merry. “He shall not harm you. I will take care of him.”

“He was drunk,” said Jack; “and he talked awfully to me! I was afraid. He caught me by the shoulder once, and said I must go with him.”

“It may be a good plan to turn him over to the police,” cried Frank, who felt that he had already endured too much from the man.

Then Frank went outside the door and listened. From the bottom of the stairs came a low groan.

“He has fallen down and hurt himself,” thought Merry. “He brought it on himself, and no one else is to blame.”

Then he descended the stairs. At the bottom a dark figure was lying. Frank lighted a match, and saw old Joe curled there, with his head doubled under him, as if his neck were broken.

In a moment Frank again became very sorry for the man. He took hold of the engineer and straightened him out into a more comfortable position.

“I wonder how much he is hurt,” thought Frank.

At the head of the stairs little Jack appeared, with a lighted lamp in his hand. The lamp was shaking so that there was danger of losing the chimney.

“What is it?” asked the boy, in a faint tone.

“He is hurt,” Merry answered.

“How bad?”

“I can’t tell; but he seems to be unconscious.”

Then the blind girl, who had risen from the bed, found her way to the door and took hold of her brother.

“Oh, I hope he is not hurt much!” she half sobbed. “He made such a noise when he was falling. It is terrible.”

Frank went upstairs and got some water, with which he wet the head of the unfortunate man. Old Joe remained silent, except for his heavy, rasping breathing, and Frank began to fear that he was seriously injured.

“If I had some place to take him,” he muttered.

His words were heard by the girl, and she quickly cried:

“Bring him up here. If he is injured, we must take care of him, for he is our uncle.”

Merry hesitated.

“Bring him up,” said little Jack, stoutly. “Wait, and I will come down. Perhaps I can help you.”

“No; you cannot help. Stay where you are, and hold the light.”

Then, after considerable trouble, the young fireman lifted the man’s limp body in his arms and carried him up the stairs.

“Put him on my bed,” whispered Nellie. “Oh, it was such a hard fall, and he is our uncle! We must do something for him.”

“It is our duty,” said Jack.

“If I can’t bring him round pretty soon, I’ll go for a doctor,” declared Frank. “Perhaps he is dying.”

But old Joe was not dying. After some minutes he groaned again and slowly opened his eyes. He was completely bewildered, as his manner showed. He stared at those near the bed, then closed his eyes again, and his lips moved.

“I’ve got ’em.”

Little Nell shrank away, one hand lifted to her throbbing heart, while her face bore an expression of fear. Frank put an arm about her, whispering:

“Don’t be afraid, little girl. Remember that I will protect you.”

She clasped his hand and clung to it closely.

“I will not be afraid now,” she said. “I know you can take care of us. How is he? Can’t I do something for him?”

“Perhaps so. Don’t let him see that you fear him. You may be able to arouse a sense of shame and gratitude in his breast, for it can’t be that all human instincts are crushed out.”

Then the blind girl became very brave, and she sat down near the bed, reaching out and touching the hand of the old engineer.

“Dear uncle,” she said, gently, “I am so sorry you are hurt! It was such an awful fall!”

Again the man opened his blood-shotten eyes. He turned his head and lay looking at her in a strange way.

“Isn’t there something I can do for you, dear uncle?” asked little Nell. “I will do anything I can. I am sorry for you.”

“I’m dreamin’,” muttered the man. “An’ I ain’t had such a dream as this for years. I thought I had the shakes, but it’s a dream. I don’t want to wake up.”

A thrill of satisfaction passed through Frank Merriwell, for those words satisfied him that, indeed, the better side of the man’s nature was not entirely dead. At last, old Joe had been touched by the pathetic beauty of the blind girl and by her gentle ways.

“Shan’t we get a doctor for you, uncle?” asked the boy.

“Doctor? No! What does a man want of a doctor when he is dreamin’? Keep still, or I shall wake up!”

“Oh, dear uncle,” said Nellie, touching his iron-gray hair, “you have had such a hard, hard time in the world!”

“Angel!” whispered old Joe. “Never believed in ’em! Never took no stock in ’em. But she’s one! ’Sh! Let me sleep.”

He closed his eyes and was silent for some time. Little Jack looked at Frank, who nodded his satisfaction.

When the old engineer opened his eyes again, he said:

“Go away! You mustn’t touch me like this! I’m not fit to be touched by those white hands! I shall leave a stain upon them. Let me get up. Where am I?”

“You are here--here in our room, which we call home. You shall stay here till you are well. I will nurse you. I have been ill myself, but now I am well enough to nurse you.”

“I don’t deserve it. It’s not a dream, after all. It’s true!”

“Yes; it is true.”

“And you have been ill? Why, ye show it. And ye want to nurse me? Well, nobody ever cared enough about me to do that before. If you knew what a miserable old sinner I am----”

“There, there, uncle! Don’t talk like that! I will be so good to you! You’ve never had anyone to be good to you, and that is all the trouble.”

“Mebbe you’re right,” he muttered, huskily. “Nobody has ever cared a rap about Joe Hicks. I’ve been alone, an’ I’ve never cared about anybody else.”

His voice choked, and he turned his head away, as if ashamed to betray any emotion.

“That is just it,” said the blind girl. “It makes us better when we know somebody cares for us and we have somebody to care for.”

“But you--you are afraid of me, Nellie? Ain’t you afraid now?”

“No; somehow I do not feel afraid of you at all--only sorry for you. And I want to help you somehow.”

“Ye can’t! It’s too late! Old Joe’s done for.”

“It is never too late, dear uncle. You were my mother’s brother, and she was such a dear, good mother to us! We loved her so!”

“Yes; she was a good gal--she always was. I didn’t treat her right when she got married. Your dad was a dreamer--alwus expectin’ to do something great. I was a worker, and I didn’t like him. But she was a good gal, and you look like her. You have her face--and her eyes. But you can’t see?”

“Not now; some time----”

“Some time you shall! I know that! I must think about it, but I can’t think now. My head aches so bad.”

Jack brought some cool water and a handkerchief. Then little Nell wet the handkerchief and placed it upon the man’s forehead. Old Joe watched everything in a wondering way, as if he could not understand why they should do so much for him.

Frank had drawn back out of sight.

“There!” said the man, huskily; “now let me think. I’m a brute. Let me sleep. When I wake up I’ll be able to think better. Sit here by me, Nellie, till I fall asleep. You need not touch me, but it is good to have an angel near!”