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Textbook Ebook Measuring Business Interruption Losses and Other Commercial Damages An Economic Approach Third Edition Gaughan All Chapter PDF
Textbook Ebook Measuring Business Interruption Losses and Other Commercial Damages An Economic Approach Third Edition Gaughan All Chapter PDF
PATRICK A. GAUGHAN
This edition first published 2020
© 2020 John Wiley & Sons, Inc.
The right of Patrick A. Gaughan to be identified as the author of the editorial material
in this work has been asserted in accordance with law.
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available in other formats.
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Contents
CHAPTER 1 Introduction 1
Development of the Field of Litigation Economics 2
Development of the Field of Forensic Accounting 3
Qualifications of an Economic Expert 5
Qualifications of an Accounting Expert on Damages 8
Interdisciplinary Nature of Commercial Damages
Analysis 8
Difference Between Disciplines of Economics
and Finance 10
Finding a Damages Expert 11
Critically Reviewing a Potential Expert’s Curriculum
Vitae 12
Getting the Damages Expert on Board Early Enough 18
Courts’ Position on Experts on Economic Damages 19
Standards for Admissibility of Expert Testimony 21
Exclusion of Experts 25
Trends in Daubert Challenges to Financial Experts 25
Expert Reports 28
Defense Expert as a Testifying Expert, Not Just
a Consultant 33
Quantitative Research Evidence on the Benefits
of Calling a Defense Expert 35
Treatment of the Relevant Case Law 36
Legal Damage Principles 36
Other Types of Damages Cases 42
Summary 46
References 46
v
viContents
Index 513
CHAPTER 1
Introduction
Measuring Business Interruption Losses and Other Commercial Damages: an Economic Approach,
Third Edition. Patrick A. Gaughan.
© 2020 John Wiley & Sons, Inc. Published 2020 by John Wiley & Sons, Inc.
1
2 Measuring Business Interruption Losses and Other Commercial Damages
encountered. For this reason, this book focuses on those circumstances that
are most commonly encountered and attempts to present a general damages
evaluation framework capable of handling most of them.
1
Lance Bachmier, Patrick Gaughan, and Norman Swanson, “The Volume of Litigation
and the Macroeconomy,” International Review of Law and Economics, 24(2) (2004):
191–207.
Introduction 3
2
Stanley P. Stephenson, David Macphearson, and Gerald Martin, Determining
Economic Damages, Revision 25 (Costa Mesa, CA: James Publishing, 2016).
3
Thomas Ireland, Stephen M. Horner, and James Rodgers, “Reference Guide for
Valuing Economic Loss in Personal Injury, Wrongful Death and Survival Actions,” in
Economic Expert Testimony: A Guide for Judges and Attorneys (Tucson, AZ: Lawyers
and Judges Publishing, 1998), pp. 1–108.
4
Michael Brookshire and Frank Slesnick, “A 1990 Survey Study of Forensic Economists,”
Journal of Forensic Economists 4(2) (Spring–Summer 1991): 125–149.
4 Measuring Business Interruption Losses and Other Commercial Damages
5
Charles L. Baum II, “Employee Tenure and Economic Losses in Wrongful Termination
Cases,” Journal of Forensic Economics, 24(1) (2013): 41–66.
6
Michael Piette, “Economic Methodology and the Analysis of Employment
Discrimination,” Journal of Forensic Economics 4(3) (Fall 1991): 307–316.
Introduction 5
7
Mattott v. Ward, 48 N.Y. 2d 455, 423 N.Y.S. 2d 645 (1979).
8
Stuart Speiser, Recovery for Wrongful Death and Injury, 2nd ed. (Lawyer’s
Cooperative Publishing, 1988); Michael L. Brookshire and Stan V. Smith,
Economic/Hedonic Damages, The Practice Book for Plaintiff and Defense Attorneys
(Cincinnati, OH: Anderson Publishing, 1990); Gerald Martin, Determining Economic
Damages (Santa Ana, CA: James Publishing, 1995); W. Gary Baker and Michael K.
Seck, Determining Economic Loss in Personal Injury and Death Cases (Colorado
Springs, CO: Shephard’s/McGraw-Hill, 1987).
9
Patrick A. Gaughan, “Economics and Financial Issues in Lost Profits Litigation,” in
Litigation Economics, Patrick A. Gaughan and Robert Thornton, eds. (Greenwich,
CT: JAI Press, 1993).
6 Measuring Business Interruption Losses and Other Commercial Damages
The qualified witness may not possess all of the above but may have
strengths in one area that outweigh deficiencies in other areas. Courts and
juries should consider such factors when weighing the testimony of indi
viduals who have been presented as experts but who may lack many of
these attributes or who only possess minimal levels of the listed qualifica
tions. Other individuals who are strong in most or even all of the areas may
“bring a greater level of expertise to the table.”
Siegfried has authored over 100 articles, which have been published in
economics journals or as chapters in various books on economics.
Siegfried currently serves on the editorial board of three economics jour-
nals, and frequently “referees” articles submitted for publication as a
contribution to scientific knowledge in the field of economics.10
10
United Phosphorus, Ltd. v. Midland Fumigant, Inc., 173 F.R.D. 675, 1997.
8 Measuring Business Interruption Losses and Other Commercial Damages
and was also a referee for such publications. The court seemed impressed
with these credentials, and it is not surprising that it put more weight on that
expert’s opinions.
A short silence followed this remark, during which Kitty and Bob
looked somewhat guilty. Kitty, who was engaged in hemming a
duster, kept her head bent over her work until her father spoke
again.
"I thought perhaps you boys would like a walk before tea," he said,
suggestively, "and if so we had better start at once."
Mr. Glanville glanced at his wife, who shook her head. Kitty had been
in disgrace that morning, having left her bedroom untidy and been
impertinent to Mary, who had remonstrated with her about it;
consequently she had been given some sewing to do by her mother
for a punishment, and the duster she was hemming was not half
done yet, though she might have finished it before if she had liked.
"I don't fancy he's a bad sort," was the unexpected reply.
"Don't you?" she questioned dubiously.
"No. I'll ask him to come into the garden; shall I?"
Kitty's manner was not gracious. She considered her brother fickle
because he seemed inclined to like Tim Shuttleworth, and she
marched off into the garden by herself. She was watching her new
pet contentedly munching a tender young lettuce when the boys
joined her.
"Isn't she a beauty?" she said, addressing Tim, who had been rather
surprised he had not been told of the rabbit before.
"Of course I like it. I've called it Fluffy. I hope I shall be able to keep
this one safer than the last."
"I—I hope so," Tim faltered. "I don't think it can come to any harm
here. Fluffy is a very good name for it."
"By the way, Kitty, the Hatches are gone," said Bob. "We passed
their house this afternoon, and it was shut up; they must have gone
early this morning. Tom told me he should come to B— for the
Grammar School Sports next month, though; so perhaps you'll be
able to speak to him about the rabbit then."
"Oh, yes," agreed Kitty; "that will do very well. No one has come for
the basket, Bob; it's still hanging up in the scullery; I noticed it just
now."
Tim started, suddenly remembering the covered basket, which, until
this moment, he had entirely forgotten he had left behind him the
night before when Snip had startled him into flight. Could that be the
basket to which Kitty referred? Yes, it must be. He stood pondering,
turning over in his mind the best way of letting his companions know
that this new pet was his present, and at length, by way of leading up
to the point, he asked, with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes:
"Last night," Kitty responded. "It's a present from one of Bob's school
friends."
"Yes. I was going to buy it from Tom Hatch, but he has given it to me
instead," the little girl explained. "He sent it last night."
"And we don't in the least know who brought it," said Bob with a
laugh; "for Snip scared whoever it was off the premises."
"But—are you sure it was Tom Hatch who sent it?" Tim inquired.
For a minute Tim was tempted to tell them they were wrong; but
would they believe him if he did? He doubted if they would; and,
upon reflection, he decided to hold his tongue and let them think the
donor of the rabbit had been Tom Hatch. How different his plan for
ingratiating himself with his companions had turned out from what he
had expected, and how vexed and disappointed he felt!
CHAPTER VI.
CONCERNING THE COVERED BASKET.
Kitty watched the growing friendship between her brother and Tim
with anything but approval. She could not overcome her prejudice
against the plain-faced, red-headed boy, and, perhaps, she was a
little jealous of him, too, for monopolising so much of Bob's society;
besides which, she still believed he was not guiltless concerning the
death of her first rabbit—for, though two years the junior of her
brother, she was far more observant than he was, and she had
noticed something strange in Tim's manner when he had been
shown Fluffy on the night when he had first seen their guest. Tim
could not help perceiving that Kitty was not altogether well-disposed
towards him, so he tried to propitiate her, and frequently with such
success that she forgot her suspicion against him and treated him
with the same good-comradeship she exhibited towards her brother.
It made Tim very happy to be on friendly terms with the family next
door, and before the time came for Kitty and Bob to return to school,
he was as much at home in their house as in his uncle's. On several
occasions he had noticed the covered basket he had dropped by the
rabbit hutch hanging on a peg behind the scullery door, and had
heard Kitty and Bob wondering why it had not been fetched; but, of
course, he could not lay claim to it, and it was not until, one day, he
heard Deborah—his uncle's elderly servant, who was housekeeper
as well—grumbling because she could not find it, that the thought
occurred to him that he ought to try to get it back.
"I suppose you've not seen my basket by any chance, Master Tim,"
Deborah said, coming out of the tool-house, where she had been
searching for the missing article. "It's a covered basket—the one I
take to market every Saturday." It was Saturday afternoon, and
Deborah, wearing her bonnet and cloak, was ready to start to make
her weekly purchases.
"I believe I did see it a few days ago," Tim replied evasively, turning
red as he spoke. "Do you want it particularly now, Deborah?"
"Why, yes, Master Tim, I do. I always keep it in one place—on the
shelf just inside the tool-house door—so someone must have moved
it." She regarded Tim accusingly, noting his heightened colour.
"No; but I'll promise to have a look for it and try to find it by-and-by. I
—I can't stay now, for I'm going in town with Bob Glanville, Can't you
manage to do without it for once, Deborah?"
"I believe she thinks I've had the basket—and, of course, I have,"
thought Tim, uneasily. "I'm glad she didn't ask me what I'd done with
it. Somehow or other I'll have to get it back."
But how? That was the question occupying his mind all that
afternoon which he spent in company with Bob Glanville. He could
not ask for the basket, he did not like to take it, and he was sorely
puzzled what to do. He was aware that Kitty still suspected him of
knowing how her first rabbit had met with its death; and now he was
friendly with the Glanvilles, he was more than ever anxious that they
should not learn the truth, which, he believed, if they knew, they
would never speak to him again. He was appeased to see how fond
Kitty was growing of her new pet, and thought regretfully of the
circumstances which had prevented his acknowledging that he had
bought it for her. But he still hesitated to set the matter on a right
footing, doubting if his word would be taken against that of Tom
Hatch, of whom Kitty now always spoke with the deepest gratitude,
which made it all the more difficult for Tim to undeceive her and
declare that Bob's school-fellow, on whose kindness and generosity
she was continually harping, had gone from his promise.
Saturday was always the busiest day of the week at B—, and on this
afternoon the streets were thronged with farmers who jostled good-
naturedly against each other as they discussed cattle and crops,
whilst their wives and daughters stood behind the long rows of stalls,
in the butter and poultry market, gossiping and doing business by
turns.
"I always like the town best on a market day," remarked Bob to Tim,
as they stood watching a cheap-jack selling umbrellas, and
marvelling at his flow of words, which never seemed to fail. "It's fun
watching the country people; they seem to be having such a good
time. Oh, I say, Shuttleworth, do look at that old chap over there with
those white rats. You haven't seen him, have you? Let us go and
watch what he is doing. He's here every week."
They elbowed their way through the crowd until they found
themselves close to a stall, behind which a hook-nosed old man,
whom Tim recognised at once as Mr. Jacob Dottin, was haranguing
several young farmers who were listening and laughing. Out of a box
he had taken several white rats, one of which had perched itself on
his shoulder, whilst another had hidden in his sleeve and the head of
a third peeped out of the breast pocket of his coat; and ranged
before him on the stall were scores of little blue paper packets.
"Isn't he a queer old chap?" whispered Bob. "His name is Dottin, and
he has a shop in the place—in a back street it is."
"I know," Tim responded. "I've seen it. I suppose he is trying to see
those rats?"
Tim was about to reply when Mr. Dottin caught sight of him and
recognised him with a most affable nod.
"Yes," Tim answered, moving away from the stall, for he did not wish
to give Mr. Dottin an opportunity of speaking to him, fearing he might
refer, in Bob's presence, to the purchase of the rabbit. "I was
standing outside his shop one day last week when he came out and
invited me to look at his 'little family,' as he called his animals."
"That was really very jolly of him! He has quite a menagerie, I've
heard."
"Yes, he has."
"Some of the Grammar School boys buy pets from him, but they say
he's a regular old sweep—will take them in if he can, you know.
What an oddity he looks, doesn't he?"
"Mr. Dottin said I was welcome to have a look round his shop any
time, and bring my friends," Tim explained, "so perhaps you and Kitty
would like to pay the old fellow a visit with me, would you?" As he
made this suggestion, he reflected that he could easily make a point
of seeing Mr. Dottin beforehand, and ask him not to mention that
there had been a business transaction between them.
"We should both like to have a good look at his animals, I'm sure,"
Bob rejoined eagerly, "but it can't be for a bit. You know the schools
reopen next week—the Grammar School on Monday and Kitty's
school on Thursday. We might go and see Mr. Dottin one Saturday
afternoon."
"I wish I was going to have a term's holiday, like you," said Bob a
short while later, as they left the market-place and turned
homewards. "It's so jolly to be able to do just what one likes, and Mr.
Shuttleworth doesn't interfere with you in any way, does he?"
"Is he better off than your father, then?" asked Bob, somewhat
diffidently, for he did not know how his companion would take the
question.
"Yes," Tim answered calmly, "he has money which an uncle left him.
It was very kind of Uncle John to ask me here, but I wish he was
more like father," he concluded with a regretful sigh.
"You are to have tea with us," announced Bob, as they came within
sight of home. "Mother said I was to bring you in. You'll come, won't
you?"
"But I had tea with you yesterday," demurred Tim, his face flushing
with pleasure, "I seem to be half my time in your house now."
"If I behave myself, indeed!" she cried, with a toss of her fair head. "I
dare say he would show them to me if I went alone."
Half an hour later, when Kitty ran upstairs to tidy herself before
supper, she opened her bedroom window—her room was at the
back of the house—and leaned out to ascertain if it still rained. It was
dry now, and the moon, a silver crescent, was shining between the
clouds. The little girl was about to draw in her head when a faint
movement below caused her to pause and listen attentively. Some
one was close to the back door, apparently leaning into the scullery
window, which had been left open.
"Why, it's a boy!" thought Kitty; "I wonder what he can be doing
here? Perhaps it's Bob. No, Bob's in the dining-room. Why,
goodness, I believe it's Tim! And yet, I suppose it cannot be, for he
went home ages ago."
Yes, the idea which had flashed upon her had been right—it was the
unclaimed basket which had gone, and that horrid, cheeky boy next
door, she felt certain, was the thief.
Full of indignation at his daring and dishonesty, she dashed into the
dining-room to her parents and Bob, and amazed them by a panting
and excited account of the discovery she had made.
CHAPTER VII.
KITTY'S ACCIDENT.
"There!" she cried. "See for yourselves! What do you think now?"
"That the basket has certainly been taken," her father rejoined. "But
calm yourself, Kitty, and don't jump to a conclusion which may be
quite wrong. You say you saw a boy reaching into the scullery
window, and afterwards carry away a basket. Are you sure it was
Tim? May it not have been another boy of about his height and size?
Moonlight is very deceptive, remember."
In her own mind the little girl was confident that it had been Tim
whom she had seen, though she had caught no glimpse of his face.
But whilst she momentarily hesitated over her reply, Bob exclaimed
impatiently: "Of course she's not sure; she's made a mistake, I'm
positive of it! Tim Shuttleworth wouldn't steal the basket! Why should
he? What good would it be to him? Depend upon it the rabbit was
brought the other evening by the same boy who fetched the basket
to-night; he merely helped himself to his own property, and, being
afraid of Snip, did it as quietly as possible."
"But how could he tell the basket was behind the scullery door,
Master Bob?" asked Cook, dubiously.
"Very likely," agreed Mrs. Glanville; "but if so, he might have asked
for it in a proper manner instead of helping himself to it after dark. I
wish, Kitty dear," she continued, addressing her little daughter with a
note of reproach in her voice, "you would not be so ready to think
evil of Tim Shuttleworth. He strikes me as a particularly nice boy,
certainly not one who would do a dishonest action. Depend upon it,
you have made a mistake."
"I don't believe I have," declared Kitty. "I didn't see his face, but I am
sure—that is, almost sure—it was Tim."
"Absurd!" Bob cried. "What will you accuse him of doing next, I
wonder? First you thought he killed your rabbit, and now you believe
him to a thief. You're utterly silly."
"I'm not," retorted Kitty, looking deeply mortified and vexed that she
could get no one to credit the charge she had brought against the
boy next door. "I think he's a horrid boy," she declared hotly, "and I
believe he'd do anything—so there! I shall tell him the next time I see
him that I was watching him to-night, and hear what he has to say."
"You will do nothing of the kind, Kitty," her father admonished her;
"for that would be tantamount to accusing him of having stolen the
basket. I forbid you to mention the matter to him; it would naturally
make him feel most uncomfortable if you did. We have not known
the boy many days, it is true, but quite long enough to know that he
is not a thief."
"Yes, indeed, father," agreed Bob. "I believe he's the sort of boy who
wouldn't do anything dishonourable or mean for the world. Since I've
known him I've liked him—though I admit before that I'd rather taken
sides against him. I suppose Kitty, you've no objection to my
changing my mind?"
"Oh, you may try to make excuses for him now," Kitty said,
scornfully; "but I don't forget all he said and how he looked (ugh! he
is an ugly boy!); and I believe he meant every word he spoke."
"I dare say he did at the time," admitted Bob; "but I'm sure he didn't
afterwards."
"Come, children, don't wrangle," said their mother. "I am sure, Kitty,
when you were playing with your brother and Tim this evening you all
seemed the best of friends. Come and have supper, and don't
trouble about the basket. It's gone, and I've no doubt the rightful
owner has it. I am glad Snip did not frighten him to-night."
"Snip was in the dining-room," said Bob. "By the way, Kitty, had you
not better see that your rabbit is all right? Perhaps your enemy next
door has stolen Fluffy too."
Although quite aware that her brother was laughing at her, Kitty took
his advice, and assured herself that her pet was safe before she
joined the others at supper, during which meal she was unusually
silent and preoccupied, by no means convinced that she had
mistaken another boy for Tim. And, as a matter of fact, the little girl
was quite right in her belief that Tim had taken the covered basket;
for, after returning to his uncle's house, he had waited until the rain
had ceased, and then had quietly gone out again and stolen round to
the Glanvilles' back door and purloined the basket through the
scullery window. He had been unable to think of any better way of
regaining Deborah's property; and having placed it on the shelf
inside the tool-house door, he went to bed with an easy mind, little
guessing that Kitty had seen and recognised him.
Kitty, as soon as she had seen her brother depart and had attended
to the needs of Fluffy, strolled down to the apple tree, and perched
herself on her favourite branch in the midst of a mass of blossoms.
She wondered what Tim would do now Bob had gone to school, and
if he would be very dull; she had been congratulating herself upon
the fact that she had three days more holiday than her brother, but
she scarcely knew how she would pass the time without a
companion. By-and-by, when Tim appeared in Mr. Shuttleworth's
garden, her face brightened, and she half hoped he would speak to
her, so that she was rather pleased than otherwise when he came
closer and suddenly glanced up. He caught sight of her immediately,
and a friendly smile crossed his countenance.
"Yes, if all's well," Kitty responded; "and they are such nice apples—
Blenheim oranges; we gather them early in October, and hoard them
—they don't get properly ripe till nearly Christmas."
"Then I shan't taste them," said Tim. "What a pity!" He was looking
up at Kitty with rather a wistful expression on his face, wishing she
would invite him to join her in the tree; but as that was evidently not
her intention, he fetched the ladder and perched himself on the wall
close by. "Do you remember the first time I looked at you and Bob
over the wall?" he asked.
"I was hoping you would speak to me, and you didn't."
"You made an ugly face at Bob; you couldn't call that good
manners."
"I did it because he called Snip away; that wasn't very nice of him,
was it?"
"No-o-o," she admitted, for that had been her opinion at the time.
"Bob's gone to school," she observed presently.
"I know; I saw him start. I shall miss him. But your father says I may
join him in his walks: isn't that kind of him? And he's going to take
me fishing; I haven't a rod, but Bob says I can use his. Do you get a
whole holiday on Saturday, like Bob?"
"Oh, yes."
"Then we must make the most of Saturdays," said Tim, regarding the
little girl with a smile. "Are there many girls at your school?" he
inquired.
"About twenty—none over twelve years old, and some are as young
as five. There's a kindergarten class."
Tim nodded. He had heard Bob speak of the school Kitty attended
somewhat disparagingly, as "a school for kids."
"I'm ten years old, you know," she proceeded to explain, "and I've
been at school since I was six."
She nodded, mollified at once. After that there was silence for some
minutes. Tim kicked his heels against the wall and whistled light-
heartedly whilst Kitty longed to speak to him of the covered basket;
but remembering what her father had said in reference to the
suggestion she had made of doing so, she kept silent upon the
subject.
"Are any of the seeds you planted in your garden coming up?" she
asked by-and-by.
"No, because he knows it's ours; and that's why he doesn't interfere
with Fluffy. If he saw a rabbit anywhere else he'd kill it in an instant.
Snip's very sharp; he always was, even as a tiny puppy. I believe he
knows all we say to him; and see how excited he gets if we ask him
if he's going walking. I'm afraid he has rather a dull time when we're
at school, though father takes him out in the afternoons; but he likes
going with Bob and me better than with father, because we let him
do as he likes," Kitty confessed ingenuously.
Tim laughed. "Do you know that your mother has asked me to go to
the grammar school sports with her next week?" he asked. "Yes, she
has," he continued, as the little girl shook her head. "Isn't it jolly and
thoughtful of her? Bob said he could get a card of invitation for Uncle
John; but sports aren't in his line, he says; and I'm glad they're not,
for I'd far rather go with Mrs. Glanville. I suppose you'll be there too,
won't you?"
"Oh, yes, and father. You know Bob's going in for several races
besides the high jump. I wouldn't miss the sports for anything. Oh, I
must go in, for there's mother at the back door beckoning to me. I
expect she wants to send me on an errand," and Kitty began to
descend the apple tree as she spoke.
"Take care!" cried Tim warningly, as the little girl, eager to impress
him with her agility, swung herself somewhat recklessly from one
branch to another.
"All right," she replied. "I shan't fall. I could climb this tree when I was
six years old."
The words were scarcely out of her mouth when her foot slipped,
and her whole weight was thrown upon the slight bough to which she
was clinging. A moment later the bough snapped off, and Kitty, with
a terrified shriek, fell heavily to the ground.
CHAPTER VIII.
KITTY IS MYSTIFIED.
TIM'S first idea on witnessing Kitty's accident was that she had killed
herself; but before he had time to move the ladder from one side of
the wall to the other and descend to her assistance, which he set
about doing at once, she had struggled into a sitting posture, and as
he reached her side she was trying to get up. That, however, she
found she could not do, for she had injured her right foot in her fall;
and her face was colourless and drawn with pain, and her blue eyes
full of frightened tears as she raised them to Tim's scared
countenance.
"Don't touch me," she almost shrieked. "I believe I'm bruised all over,
and my foot is hurting me dreadfully—I think all the bones in it are
broken! Oh, dear, what shall I do? Please fetch father—fetch him at
once!" And the little girl burst into a storm of tears and sobs.
"Yes," assented his wife, who was carefully withdrawing the shoe
from poor Kitty's injured foot. "There, dear, it's off," she said,
soothingly, as Kitty moaned with pain.
"Let me go," said Tim, who was hovering about the doorway, deeply
concerned. "Ah! Do let me go; I'll run all the way."
"There's no need for such hurry as that—" said Mr. Glanville "at
least, I think not. But if you will go and ask Dr. Richards to come
round and see Kitty, I shall be very glad. I dare say you'll catch him
before he starts on his morning round. You know where he lives?"
"Oh, yes—just round the corner," Tim replied. "Bob pointed out the
house to me, and said your doctor lived there. I'll be back in a jiffy."
In spite of what Mr. Glanville had said Tim ran all the way, for he
thought most seriously of Kitty's condition; and, as it happened, it
was fortunate he did, for Dr. Richards was on the point of stepping
into his gig when the little boy rushed up to him—a moment later he
would have been gone.
"Oh, please," panted Tim excitedly, "will you go to Mr. Glanville's first
of all? There's been a dreadful accident. Kitty's fallen from a tree,
and is so injured! She's bruised all over, and has broken every bone
in her right foot. I'm afraid she's very bad."
"I'll go and see her at once," the doctor replied, not looking nearly so
impressed as Tim had expected he would; and, getting into his gig,
he drove away.
The little boy retraced his footsteps soberly, and found the doctor's
gig outside the Glanvilles' house on his return. He went round to the
back of the house and discussed Kitty's accident with Cook in the
kitchen; and when he heard Mary opening the front door for the
doctor to depart, he begged Cook to go and ascertain what was the
medical opinion of the patient, which she was very willing to do.
"She's more frightened than hurt, Master Tim," Cook told him
reassuringly, coming back after a short absence from the kitchen.
"Dr. Richards has bandaged her sprained foot, and he says she
must be kept quiet; but there's no need to be alarmed about her—
she'll soon be all right again."
"Oh, how glad I am to hear that!" cried Tim thankfully; "I quite
thought she had killed herself!" he added, with a shudder.
"Young bones fall light," remarked Cook. "I hope this will be a lesson
to Miss Kitty not to be so hoydenish in future; why she hasn't fallen
from that apple tree before I really don't know."
"I suppose she was showing off because you were watching her,"
observed Bob, jumping at once to the right conclusion.
"Yes," nodded Tim, "that was it; but please don't tell her I said so," he
added hastily.
"All right," agreed Bob, "I won't. Poor Kitty, she'll be tied by the leg for
a bit, I suppose. I wonder if she'll be well enough to come to the
sports?"
That was the thought which troubled Kitty herself. Dr. Richards kept
her in bed only two days, after which she lay on the sofa in the
dining-room. Of course there was no question of her returning to
school on Thursday. She did not mind that in the least; but it worried
her to think she might not be well by Saturday week, which was the
day fixed for the grammar school sports. Dr. Richards would not say
she would be able to go, and when questioned upon the point merely
answered evasively, "Oh, we'll see."
"I suppose Bob is taking good care of Fluffy?" the little girl remarked
to her mother one morning after she was comfortably settled on the
sofa, with Snip on the rug at her feet.
"Oh, Tim's seeing to Fluffy," Mrs. Glanville replied. "He cleans out the
hutch every day, I believe. He offered to take charge of your pet, and
we were glad he could do so; for, you know, Bob has little spare
time, what with his lessons and practising for the sports."
"Yes, I think I should," Kitty answered. "It was very good of him to
fetch Dr. Richards so quickly the other morning—I thought so at the
time. Please, mother, ask him to come in."
So Tim came in, his plain, freckled face very bright, and told Kitty
how very glad he was she was better, and reported that Fluffy was
doing well under his care. Kitty thanked him for looking after her pet;
and then, as she expressed a desire to see Fluffy, Tim fetched the
rabbit, and she kissed its pink nose and fondled it, until Snip,
watching her from the corners of his eyes, began to show symptoms
of jealousy, and it was deemed advisable to restore Fluffy to the
hutch.