the problem of managing a bundle of boxes and two crutches, was hastening toward the tents.
With a quick word of protest on her tongue, Pollyanna turned to Sadie Dean. But the protest died unspoken, for Sadie, her finger to her lips, was hurrying straight toward her.
"I know you didn't think," she stammered in a low voice, as she reached Pollyanna's side. "But, don't you see?—it hurts him—to have you think he can't do things like other folks. There, look! See how happy he is now."
Pollyanna looked, and she saw. She saw Jamie, his whole self alert, deftly balance his weight on one crutch and swing his burden to the ground. She saw the happy light on his face, and she heard him say nonchalantly:
"Here's another contribution from Miss Dean. She asked me to bring this over."
"Why, yes, I see," breathed Pollyanna, turning to Sadie Dean. But Sadie Dean had gone.
Pollyanna watched Jamie a good deal after that, though she was careful not to let him, or any one else, see that she was watching him. And as she watched, her heart ached. Twice she saw him essay a task and fail: once with a box too heavy for him to lift; once with a folding-table too unwieldy for him to carry with his crutches. And each time she saw his quick glance about him to see if others noticed. She saw, too, that unmistakably he was getting very tired, and that his face, in spite of its gay smile, was looking white and drawn, as if he were in pain.
