perate life. You must get
well now."

She bent over him and softly caressed his hand.

"Where is that woman now? Dennie Saxon asked me once to do something for
her in her loneliness. She got ahead of my negligence and did something
for me, it seems."

"She left Lagonda Ledge the very day they rushed us up here to the
hospital. Is n't she strange? And she is so gentle and sweet, but so
sad. I never saw such apathetic face as hers, Uncle Lloyd."

"When did you see her?" Fenneben asked.

"She came to ask after you. Nobody thought you would get over it."
Elinor's voice trembled. "The fever was burning you up and it took three
doctors to hold you. I saw her face when Dennie Saxon said they thought
you wouldn't pull through. Your own sister couldn't have turned whiter,
Uncle Lloyd."

"And the one-armed man I seemed to remember?"

"I don't know. I've been too busy to ask many questions. Lagonda Ledge
is in mourning for you. It will run up the flag above half-mast when I
write how much better you are. Bond Saxon has a theory that some thief
wanted to rob you and decoyed you away on pretense of helping somebody
out of the river. You are an easy mark, Uncle."

"Why should Bond Saxon have a theory? And how did he know where to find
me? And how did that gray-haired woman and her dog happen in on the
scene just then? This is a grim sort of dime novel business, Norrie.
Things don't fall out this way in real life unless there is some reason
back of them. I think I'll bear investigating."

"I think so myself--you or your romantic rescuing squad. You might call
the dog to the witness stand first, for he was the first on the scene.
I forgot though that the dog is dead. They found him down the river
with his throat cut. The plot thickens." Elinor's frivolous spirit was
returning with the lessening of care.

"Tell me about the ball game," Fenneben said next.

"Oh, it rained for hours and hours, and there wasn't any train service
for Lagonda Ledge for a week, and all the Inter-Collegiate Athletic
events for the season were called off for Sun rise-by-the-Walnut."

"And the students, generally?" Dr. Fenneben questioned.

"Mr. Trench will be back," Elinor exclaimed, "and folks have just found
out that it's old Trench who's keeping that crippled boy in school, the
one they call 'Limpy.' Trench rustles jobs for him and divides his own
income for college expenses with the boy for the rest of the cost. I
don't know how the story go