urnbull, "I think you had better go. The case
may be urgent."

"Cameron!" cried Martin again. "I bet my bat it's--Here, wait till I get
my coat. I'll be with you in a jerk. Have you got a good horse?"

"He's all right," said Sam. "He'll git you there in an hour."

"An hour? How far is it?"

"Twelve miles."

"Great heavens! Come, then, get a move on!" And so it came that within
an hour Cameron, opening his eyes, looked up into the face of his
friend.

"Martin! By Jove!" he said, and closed his eyes again. "Martin!" he said
again, looking upon the familiar face. "Say, old boy, is this a dream? I
seem to be having lots of them."

"It's no dream, old chap, but what in the mischief is the matter? What
does all this fever mean? Let's look at you."

A brief examination was enough to show the doctor that a broken leg was
the least of Cameron's trouble. A hasty investigation of the resources
of the farm house determined the doctor's course.

"This man has typhoid fever, a bad case too," he said to Mandy. "We will
take him in to the hospital."

"The hospital?" cried Mandy fiercely. "Will you, then?"

"He will be a lot of trouble to you," said the doctor.

"Trouble? Trouble? What are you talkin' about?"

"We're awful busy, Mandy," interposed the mother, who had been roused
from her bed.

"Oh, shucks, mother! Oh, don't send him away," she pleaded. "I can nurse
him, just as easy." She paused, with quivering lips.

"It will be much better for the patient to be in the hospital. He will
get constant and systematic care. He will be under my own observation
every hour. I assure you it will be better for him," said the doctor.

"Better for him?" echoed Mandy in a faint voice. "Well, let him go."

In less than an hour's time, such was Dr. Martin's energetic promptness,
he had his patient comfortably placed in the democrat on an improvised
stretcher and on his way to the city hospital.

And thus it came about that the problem of his leave-taking, which had
vexed Cameron for so many days, was solved.

CHAPTER VIII

IN APPLE TIME

"Another basket of eggs, Mr. Cameron, and such delicious cream! I am
deeply grieved to see you so nearly well."

"Grieved?"

"For you will be leaving us of course."

"Thanks, that is kind of you."

"And there will be an end to eggs and cream. Ah! You are a lucky man."
And the trim, neat, bright-faced nurse shook her finger at him.

"So I have often remarked to myself these six