rom his pocket he fixed it upon Dollie's head.
She opened her eyes for a moment and mumbled something, but sank into
sleep again. Harvey explained how it was he came to have the headgear
with him.

"I have a favor to ask of you, Mr. Bradley," said O'Hara, shifting from
one foot to another and as confused as a school-boy.

"Anything that you ask shall be granted, if it be in my power to grant
it," replied Harvey with a fervor that could leave no doubt of his
sincerity.

"It's a long distance to the village, and I will be glad if you will
let me carry her."

He made as if he simply wished to assist the superintendent. The
latter knew better, but he did not say so.

"I shall be glad to have your aid; you have had a rest for several
days, and a little exercise like this won't hurt you."

Hugh brought forth his best coat and gathered it around Dollie, as if
he was tucking her up in her trundle bed. Then Harvey placed her with
much care in his arms and made sure they were fully prepared to go out
doors.

The Hansell brothers quietly looked on during these proceedings. They
felt that there was no special use for them, and therefore they kept in
the background. The hound Nero showed much interest. He walked around
Hugh and Harvey, whining and wagging his tail as if he thought his
views ought to have some weight in the questions the couple were called
upon to consider.

"Come, Nero," said his master, as he drew the door inward. The dog
shot through like a flash and the tramp to the village was begun.

Hardly a word was spoken on the way, but when the house was reached
Hugh handed his burden over to Harvey and, refusing to go in, started
to move off. The superintendent put out his free hand.

"Hugh, I want you to come and see me to-morrow afternoon; will you do
so?"

"I will. Good-night."

"Good-night."

Hugh O'Hara had walked but a short distance up the mountain path when
he was caught in a driving snow-storm. He cared little for it,
however, and reached the cabin in due time, there to perform a strange
duty.

CHAPTER V.

A LITTLE CHILD SHALL LEAD THEM.

When Hugh O'Hara came to the door of Harvey Bradley, he was in his best
dress--the same that he wore to church on Sundays. Aunt Maria met him
on the threshold, and, in tremulous tones, thanked him. Then she led
the way to the back parlor, where the young superintendent awaited him.
The moment he entered, there came a flash of sunshine and