out the room, and
faced round. "Well, young man," he said, "we pulled you through a
pretty tight place."

The manner and tone angered Field. "That's your trade, isn't it?" he
answered. "I suppose money will pay you."

"Money!" roared the old doctor. "Of course you'll pay, and pay well.
But do you think I've done it for your sake, or your money? Look here:
he served you right when he threw you over."

"I suppose he'd hang as well as another," answered Field.

"He wouldn't hang. There's no evidence but hearsay and surmise against
him. If you had died, your body would never have been found. A hundred
good men would testify to his character, and I'd have been one. He
stands a worse chance now than if you were anchored to the bottom of
the lake. I haven't saved your life for his sake nor for yours: I have
done it for this old man. You owe me nothing but money, but everything
you've got, and all you'll ever have, and the chance of redeeming
yourself, you owe to old Joe Trapp; and I wish him joy of his debtor!"

"Now, old man," Field answered, "you can go. You needn't come back. I
haven't the money now, but old Trapp will give you my card out of my
coat. Send your bill to that address and I'll pay you when I can."

The doctor stood looking at him a minute with his hands in his
pockets, his red face scowling savagely. He muttered something, turned
on his heel and went down. Old Trapp was away at the time, and came
home an hour later. He came up and into Field's room with his queer
gait and face and stooping old figure.

"My friend," said Field, "I'll trouble you to bring me my clothes: I'm
going to get up."

The old man went down and brought them, helped him to dress and come
down stairs, and set him by the fire in an easy-chair. The old wife
brought and laid on the table a knife, a bunch of keys, a letter, a
card-case and cigar-case, a handkerchief newly washed and ironed,
a pair of soiled gloves, some pennies and trifles, and two rolls of
bills.

"They was wet, you know, and we had to dry 'em separate," said the old
man, "but you'll find 'em right, I guess."

Field flushed up when he saw one of the rolls: it was tied with a
string, and a bit of paper about it was marked in pencil, partly
obliterated, "Long Fellow of Ti." He put that package into his pocket
with the' other things, and left the other roll of money on the table.

"You two people have done uncommonly neighborly by me," he said. "I
should like to kno