They carried him outside and laid him on the grass in front of the
court house. The doctor used every restorative he had with him. Men
hurried to the drug store. They tried everything, but all to no avail.
Ike Fenner the tailor was dead! He had gone to stand before a higher
court!
When it was all over, the finger prints and the red tape, and the case
had been dismissed, Mark came to Billy where he was lying in the big
car waiting, with his eyes closed to keep back weak tears that would
slip out now and then. He knelt beside the boy and touched his hand,
the hand that looked so thin and weak and so little like Billy's: "Kid," he said gently, "Kid, you've been a wonder! It was really you
that saved me, Buddy! My Buddy!"
Billy's tears welled over at the tone, the words, the proud intimate
name, but he shook his head slowly, sadly.
"No," he said, "No, it wasn't me. I tried, but I wasn't fit! It had to
be Him. I didn't understand! They wouldn't believe me. But
He came as soon as I ast!"
Mark looked at the doctor.
"Is he wandering a little?" he asked in a low tone: "I shouldn't wonder. He's been through enough to make anyone wander.
Here, son, take this."
Billy smiled and obediently accepted his medicine. Mark held his hand
all the way home. He knew that Mark didn't understand but he was too
tired to tell him now. Sometime he would explain. Or perhaps Miss Lynn
would explain it for him. He was going home, home to Saxy and Sabbath
Valley and the bells, and Mark was free! He hadn't saved him, but Mark
was free!
It was like a royal passage through the village as they came into
Sabbath Valley, for everybody came out to wave at Mark and Billy. Even
Mrs. Harricutt watched grimly from behind her Holland shades. But Billy
was too weak to notice much, except to sense it distantly, and Mark
would only lift his hat and bow, gravely, quietly as if it didn't
matter, just as he used to do when they carried him round on their
shoulders after a football game, and he tried to get down and hide. Why
did Mark still have that sad look in his eyes? Billy was too tired to
think it out. He was glad when they reached Aunt Saxon's door and Mark
picked him up as he used to do when he was just a little kid, and
carried him up to his room. Carried him up and undressed him, while
Saxy heard the story from the doctor's lips, and laughed and cried and
laughed again. The nervy little kid! He would always be a "little kid"
to Saxy, no matter what he did.