hat I didn't insist, and now--"

"Is there any danger?"

"If this heat would let up a little, I think there would be no doubt but
that we could pull him through. But--Tabitha ought to have some help for
her own sake."

Poor Tom! He could see that the little sister was weakening, and he was
doing all in his power to lighten her load, but he could not help her in
her ceaseless watching which was telling so fearfully on her strength.
In an agony of anguish and despair he slipped out to the back steps and
sat heavily down in the shade of the house, dropping his hot head on
his arms and two stinging tears coursing down his cheeks.

"I beg your pardon, but isn't this where Mr. Catt lives?"

The voice spoke directly at his elbow, and Tom, so much absorbed in his
unhappy thoughts that he had not heard the approaching footsteps, looked
up in surprise to see a tall, well-dressed, refined-looking stranger on
the lower step.

"Yes, sir."

"May I see him?"

"He is very sick--hurt--and doesn't know anyone. We can't allow folks to
see him."

"I understood that he was seriously injured and that you needed someone
to help care for him. I--"

"We are in need of help," Tom interrupted; "but he won't let anyone wait
on him but my sister."

"He will me." The man spoke with such confidence that again Tom looked
his surprise. "The little girl is all tired out. Take me to your father.
Oh, it is all right! I have Dr. Vane's sanction. Besides--well, I may as
well tell you now. I am the 'hermit of the hills' whom Tabitha saved
from burning to death more than a year ago. I was your father's partner
once and his dearest friend; but I proved false to my trust. I cheated
him out of his share in some valuable property--wrecked his whole life.
Take me to him and don't fear the consequences."

Tom rose quickly. "Come inside. Tabitha is with him now."

He led the unexpected guest to the little room where the sick man lay
tossing and muttering in the delirium of fever.

"Why didn't you put ice in that water?" he was saying querulously. "If
you are bound to feed me boiled water, I want it cold."

Patient little Tabitha sighed wearily and turned toward the kitchen with
the rejected glass on the tray, just as the hermit paused on the
threshold.

"Here is a glass of ice-water, Lynne," said the stranger, taking the
tumbler from the girl's hand. "Drink this and go to sleep."

"Why, hello, Decker!" exclaimed the patient, with a gleam of
in