just runs off, I won't use any more. If it boils, there is poison in these places, and they must be tied up, dosed every day, and you must be washed, and kept mighty clean. Now, hold still, because I am going to put it on."
"I think the one on my leg is the worst," said the undaunted Billy, holding out a raw place. Sinton poured on the drug. Billy's body twisted and writhed, but he did not run.
"Gee, look at it boil!" he cried. "I guess they's poison. You'll have to do it to all of them."
Sinton's teeth were set as he watched the boy's face. He poured the drug, strong enough to do effective work, on a dozen places over that little body and bandaged all he could. Billy's lips quivered at times, and his chin jumped, but he did not shed a tear or utter a sound other than to take a deep interest in the boiling. As Sinton put the small shirt on the boy, and fastened the trousers, he was ready to reset the hitching post and mend the fence without a word.
"Now am I clean?" asked Billy.
"Yes, you are clean outside," said Sinton. "There is some dirty blood in your body, and some bad words in your mouth, that we have to get out, but that takes time. If we put right things to eat into your stomach that will do away with the sores, and if you know that I don't like bad words you won't say them any oftener than you can help, will you, Billy?"
Billy leaned against Sinton in apparent indifference.
"I want to see me!" he demanded.
