diot," he said, under his breath. "I wrote, 'Take two every four hours
until relieved.'"

"I was relieved," explained Miss Mattie, "and I've had fine sleep ever
since. It's wore off considerable in the last three days, though."

Allan then told her, in vivid and powerful language, how the druggist's
error might have had very serious results, had it not been for Roger's
presence of mind in substituting the flour-filled capsules for the
"searching medicine." He was surprised to find that Miss Mattie was
ungrateful, and that she violently resented the imposition.

[Sidenote: Notion of Economy]

"Roger's just like his pa," she said, with the dull red rising in her
cheeks. "He never had no notion of economy. When I'm takin' a dollar and
twenty cents' worth of medicine, to keep it from bein' wasted, Roger
goes and puts flour into the covers of it, and feeds the expensive
medicine to Judge Bascom's Fido. He thinks more of that dog than he does
of his sick mother."

"My dear Mrs. Austin," said Allan, solemnly, "have you not heard the
news?"

"What news?" she demanded, bristling.

"Little Fido is dying. He took all the medicine and has been asleep ever
since. By morning, he will be dead."

Miss Mattie's jaw dropped. "Would you mind tellin' me," she asked,
suspiciously, "why you took it on yourself to give me medicine that
would pizen a dog? I might have took it all at once, to save it. Once
I was minded to."

"Roger saved your life," said Allan, endeavouring to make his tone
serious. "And because of it, he is about to lose his position. The Judge
is so disturbed over Fido's approaching dissolution that he has told
Roger never to come back any more. Unless we can find him a place in
town, he has sacrificed his whole future to save his mother's life."

"Where is Roger?"

"I left him down on the beach, with Miss Wynne. I suppose he is still
there."

"When you see him," commanded Miss Mattie, with some asperity, "will you
kindly send him home? It's no time for him to be gallivantin' around
with girls, when his mother's been so near death."

"I will," Allan assured her, reaching for his hat. "I hope you
appreciate what he has done for you."

[Sidenote: The Doctor Laughs]

When he went down the road, his shoulders were shaking suspiciously.
Miss Mattie was watching him through the lace curtains that glorified
the parlour windows. "Seems as if he had St. Vitus's dance," she mused.
"Wonder why he doesn't mix up some