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 “Sure you are! You ought to see my dad with our Jimmy. He’s just crazy about him. He says that our Jimmy has got all the rest of the babies on the map lashed to the mast.”

“And you think my Jamie stands a chance of being as fine a baby as that?” asked Jamie.

“I don’t think anything about it,” said the little Scout. “I’m well acquainted with both of ’em and there ain’t a thing the matter with your Jamie. He don’t cry and he’s no fusser. He just takes his food and goes to sleep and lies there so little and so still it most breaks your heart ’cause he can’t help himself any, and no mother to cuddle him. He’s got some service due him and I’m going to see that he gets it.”

“Yes, I thought about that, too,” said Jamie. “He’s certainly a helpless little duffer.”

“Yes, he is,” agreed the Scout Master, heartily. “He’s a helpless little duffer And that’s where we come in, and so we got to get on the job and take care of him.”

“All right,” said Jamie, “we’ll get on the job and take care of him. Do the best you can for a few days more until Margaret Cameron comes.”

At the mention of Margaret Cameron they both looked her way, and at the same time they both saw her going in her back door and moving through the back part of the house.

“Why, there she is now!” cried the little Scout. “Shall go over and tell her about Jamie and ask her if she will take him?”