"Got anxious about Lily," he explained. "Out on the lake I thought I heard
her call me, then I had the notion she was crying for me. They laughed at
me, but I couldn't stand it. Is she asleep, as they said she'd be?"
Peter opened his lips, but no word came. Mickey slowly turned a ghastly
white. Peter reached in his side pocket, drew out a letter, and handed it
to the boy. Mickey pulled the sheet from the envelope, still staring at
Peter, then glanced at what he held and collapsed on the step. Peter moved
beside him, laid a steadying arm across his shoulders and proved his fear
was as great as Mickey's by being unable to speak. At last the boy
produced articulate words.
"_He came?_" he marvelled.
"About ten this morning," said Peter.
"He took her to the hospital?" panted Mickey.
"Yes," said Peter.
"Why did you let him?" demanded Mickey.
That helped Peter. He indicated the letter.
"There's your call for him!" he said, emphatically. "You asked me to adopt
her so I could give him orders to go ahead when he came.
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