be put aside. And the keen
disappointment that Mrs. Ben's words had brought, added to all the
rest, had proved too much even for Judith Lynn. She cried on, taking
her time.

"There now! that's right, storm's clearin'!" said Uncle Jem, as at
length the brown head lifted slowly. "Now we'll pull out o' harbor
and get to work." Which meant that now explanations were in order.
Judith understood.

"They've gone away!" she said thickly. It takes time for throbbing
throats to come back to their own. "It's too late to find out. If I'd
gone yesterday--" She stopped hastily, on the verge of fresh tears.

"Go ahead, little un; weather's a little too thick yet to see clear.
Who's gone away? What's it too late for?" But even as he said it,
Uncle Jem, too, understood. He went on without waiting, to give
Judith more time.

"Hold on!--I can pull out o' the fog myself. That mother o' that
little cured un--she's the one that's gone away, eh? You was too late
to see her an' ask your questions. I see. Well, now, I call that too
bad. But 'tain't worth another cry, deary."

"Well, I won't cry another one, so there!" cried Judith. "Only--only--"

"I know--I know! We've got to slew off on another tack. You give Uncle
Jem time to think, Judy. There's a powerful lot o' thinkin'-time
handy when you lay here on your back for a livin'. Jest you run home
an' let your ma put you to bed. I've heard all about your goin's-on,
an' I guess bed's the best place for you! I'll think it out while
you're restin' up."

But to unlettered people who rarely get in touch with what is going
on in the thick of things, "thinking it out" is no easy matter. Their
one frail little hold on the miracle that could make Blossom whole
had snapped when the hotel mother and child went away. Where to turn
next for information--what to do next--was a puzzle that would not
unravel for any of them. In vain Uncle Jem wrestled with it, as he
lay through long, patient hours. And Judith wrestled untiringly.

The mackerel-money came in due time, but the wondrous little blue
check that came out of the official-looking envelope and lay
outspread on Judith's hard, brown palm had lost its power to give
legs to little Blossom, and Judith gazed at it resentfully. What was
the use of it now? A small part of it would get the little
wheel-chair, but it was not a wheel-chair Judith longed for now. She
put away the blue check safely, and took up the wrestling again. She
would find the cl