Winslow had left a home she loved to come at her brother's urgent
call for help to save his boys. The tutor had only a few hours of his
position, and thus far his salary seemed the attractive feature. James Jr.
and Malcolm were too dazed to be natural for a short time. They had been
picked up bodily, and carried kicking and screaming to this place, where
they had been dressed in plain durable clothing. Malcolm's bed stood
beside Little Brother's in a big sunny room; James' was near the tutor's
in a chamber the counterpart of the other, save for its bookcases lining
one wall.
There was a schoolroom not yet furnished with more than tables and chairs,
its floors and walls bare, its windows having shades only. When worn out
with the struggle the amazed boys had succumbed to sleep on little, hard,
white beds with plain covers; had awakened to a cold bath at the hands of
a man, and when they rebelled and called for Lucette and their accustomed
clothing, were forcibly dressed in linen and khaki.
In a few minutes together before they were called to breakfast, James had
confided to Malcolm that he thought if they rushed into William's back
with all their strength, on the top step, they could roll him downstairs
and bang him up good.
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