“The doctor hasn't told us yet,” said Douglas, kindly. “I'm her Uncle Toby--not her REAL uncle,” the old man explained, “but that's what she calls me. I couldn't come out right away, because I'm on in the concert. Could I see her now, please?” “Here's the doctor,” said Douglas, as Hartley came down the stairs, followed by Jim. “Well, doctor, not bad, I hope?” “Yes, rather bad,” said the doctor, adding quickly, as he saw the suffering in Toby's face, “but don't be alarmed. She's going to get well.” “How long will it be before we can have her back--before she can ride again?” asked Jim gruffly, as he stood apart, twisting his brown, worn hat in his hands. “Probably several months,” said the doctor. “No bones are broken, but the ligaments of one ankle are torn, and she received a bad blow on the head. It will be some time before she recovers consciousness.” “What are we goin' to do, Jim?” asked Toby, helplessly. “You needn't worry, we'll take good care of her here,” said Douglas, seeing desperation written on their faces. “Here?” They looked at him incredulously.--And this was a parson! “Where are her parents?” the doctor asked, looking at Jim and Toby. “She ain't got no parents 'cept Toby an' me,” replied Jim. “We've took care of her ever since she was a baby.” “Oh, I see,” said the doctor. “Well, one of you'd better stay here until she can be moved.” “That's the trouble; we can't,” said Toby, hanging his head. “You see, sir, circus folks is like soldiers. No matter what happens, the show has to go on, and we got to be in our places.” “Well, well, she'll be safe enough, here,” said the doctor. “It is a fortunate thing that Mr. Douglas can manage this. Our town hospital burned down a few months ago, and we've been rather puzzled as to what to do with such cases.” He took his leave with a cheery “Good night,” and a promise to look in upon the little patient later. Jim shuffled awkwardly toward the pastor. “It's mighty good of you to do this,” he mumbled, “but she ain't goin' to be no charity patient. Me and Toby is goin' to look after her keep.” “Her wants will be very few,” Douglas answered, kindly. “You needn't trouble much about that.” “I mean it,” said Jim, savagely. He met Douglas's glance of surprise with a determined look, for he feared that his chance of being useful to Polly might be slipping out of his life. “You mustn't mind Jim,” the clown pleaded at the pastor's elbow. “You see pain gets some folks different from others; and it always kinder makes him savage.” “Oh, that's all right,” Douglas answered, quickly. His own life had been so lonely, that he could understand the selfish yearning in the big man's heart. “You must do what you think best about these things; Mandy and I will look after the rest.” Jim hung his head, feeling somehow that the pastor had seen straight into his heart and discovered his petty weakness. He was about to turn toward the door when it was thrown open by Barker.