nd Hiram to the waving light.

"I've got to see about this," he muttered, and started as fast as he
could go through the drifts, across the fields.

Soon he heard the voice shouting. It was Sam Dickerson. And he evidently
had been shouting to Hiram, seeing his lantern in the distance.

"Help, Strong! Help!" he called.

"What is it, man?" demanded Hiram, climbing the last pair of bars and
struggling through the drifts in the dooryard.

"Will you take my horse and go for the doctor? I don't know where Pete
is--down to Cale Schell's, I expect."

"What's the matter, Mr. Dickerson?"

"Sarah's fell down the bark stairs--fell backward. Struck her head an'
ain't spoke since. Will you go, Mr. Strong?"

"Certainly. Which horse will I take?"

"The bay's saddled-under the shed--get any doctor--I don't care which
one. But get him here."

"I will, Mr. Dickerson. Leave it to me," promised Hiram, and ran to the
shed at once.

CHAPTER XXXI. "MR. DAMOCLES'S SWORD"

Hiram Strong was not likely to forget that long and arduous night. It
was impossible to force the horse out of a walk, for the drifts were in
some places to the creature's girth.

He stopped at the house for a minute and roused Mrs. Atterson and Old
Lem and sent them over to help the unhappy Dickersons.

He was nearly an hour getting to the crossroads store. There were lights
and revelry there. Some of the lingering crowd were snowbound for the
night and were making merry with hard cider and provisions which Schell
was not loath to sell them.

Pete was one of the number, and Hiram sent him home with the news of his
mother's serious hurt.

He forced the horse to take him into town to Dr. Broderick. It was
nearly two o'clock when he routed out the doctor, and it was four
o'clock when the physician and himself, in a heavy sleigh and behind a
pair of mules, reached the Dickerson farmhouse.

The woman had not returned to consciousness, and Mrs. Atterson remained
through the day to do what she could. But it was many a tedious week
before Mrs. Dickerson was on her feet again, and able to move about.

Meanwhile, more than one kindly act had Mother Atterson done for the
neighbors who had seemed so careless of her rights. Pete never appeared
when either Mrs. Atterson or Sister came to the house; but in his sour,
gloomy way, Sam Dickerson seemed to be grateful.

Hiram kept away, as there was nothing he could do to help them. And he
saw when Pete chanced to pas