I should think you'd be just wild to see that poor little fellow--he's a brick, though." "I've been wild," said Andy, "over a good many things--you, for one.
Where's the Kid ?" They went together, hand in hand--terribly silly, wasn't it ?--to where the Kid lay wrapped in the gray blanket in the shelter of a bank.

Andy struck a match and held it so that he could see the Kid face--and Miss Allen, looking at the man whose wooing had been so abrupt, saw his mouth tremble and his lashes glisten as he stared down while the match-blaze lasted.
"Poor little tad--he's sure a great Kid," he said huskily when the match went out.

He stood up and put his arm around Miss Allen just as though that was his habit.

"And it was you that found him!" he murmured with his face against hers.

"And I've found you both, thank God.".