miserable dog which had been driven from his home, Judd
haunted the cabin. When she stole out one morning, to speak with him
about Lou, Smiles cried, "Oh, if Doctor Mac were only here now! _He_
would know what to do, I'm sure."

Judd's hands, blue with cold, clenched so violently that the knuckles
grew a bloodless white, and the look of pain, lying deep down in his
eyes, changed to a flash of burning hate.

"Don't never speak thet man's name ter me, gal."

The words were spoken in a harsh voice and he strode abruptly away.

At more and more infrequent intervals, the village doctor made his
toilsome way up the slippery mountain side, sat regarding the little
patient with a hopelessly puzzled look, and finally departed, shaking
his head; but he never failed to leave behind him another bottle of
obnoxious medicine on the chance that if one did not produce an
improvement, another might. Even to the girl it was all too apparent,
however, that he was aiming blindly into the dark.

There came a time when the child spoke scarcely at all, save to moan
piteously something about the pain in her head; her emaciated legs
barely carried her on her uncertain course; her vague, sweet eyes turned
inward more and more; and it was with the greatest difficulty, and only
by the exercise of infinite patience that Smiles could feed her. The
little mountain blossom was wilting and fading slowly away.

On the afternoon of the first day of January Dr. Johnston spent a long
time at the cabin, striving against the impossible to solve the problem
which confronted him like an appalling mystery, far too deep to be
pierced by the feeble ray of science at his command.

At last he arose with a gesture of finality, and announced to the
anxiously waiting girl, "I reckon I'm done. I won't go so fur as to say
that a city specialist might not be able to help her; but hanged if _I_
can. The trouble is too much for me, and I guess Lou is just a-goin' to
die."

Sudden tears welled into Smiles' luminous eyes, and ran unheeded down
her cheeks, now unnaturally thin and wan.

"Hit haint so," she cried in a choked voice. "Lou haint ergoin' ter die,
Dr. Johnston!"

Suddenly she stopped, as her thoughts flew backward on the wings of
memory. Her eyes grew larger, a strange light came into them. Then,
speaking slowly, almost as though the words were impelled by a will
other than her own, she added with a tone of absolute certainty:

"Yo' allows _yo'_ don't