rprising Mr. Blount had been hanging about the Doctor like a cat
about the cream pitcher; now he rushed up, grasped the suit case, and
officiously led the way toward the depot wagon. Dr. Morgan followed more
slowly. As he passed the Captain he glanced up into the latter's face,
lighted, as it was, by the lamp inside the window.

The Doctor stopped and looked again. Then he took another step forward,
hesitated, turned on his heel, and said:

"Wait a moment, Blount. Captain Hiram, do you live far from here?"

The Captain started. "No, sir, only a little ways."

"All right. I'll go down and look at this boy of yours. Mind you, I'll
not take the case, simply give my opinion on it, that's all. Blount,
take my grip to Mr. Williams's. I'm going to walk down with the
Captain."

"Haul on ee bowline, ee bowline, haul!" muttered the first mate, as they
came into the room. The lamp that Sophronia was holding shook, and the
Captain hurriedly brushed his eyes with the back of his hand.

Dr. Morgan started perceptibly as he bent forward to look at the little
fevered face of Dusenberry. Graver and graver he became as he felt the
pulse and peered into the swollen throat. At length he rose and led the
way back into the sitting room.

"Captain Baker," he said simply, "I must ask you and your wife to be
brave. The child has diphtheria and--"

"Diphthery!" gasped Sophronia, as white as her best tablecloth.

"Good Lord above!" cried the Captain.

"Diphtheria," repeated the Doctor; "and, although I dislike extremely to
criticize a member of my own profession, I must say that any physician
should have recognized it."

Sophronia groaned and covered her face with her apron.

"Ain't there--ain't there no chance, Doctor?" gasped the Captain.

"Certainly, there's a chance. If I could administer antitoxin by
to-morrow noon the patient might recover. What time does the morning
train from Boston arrive here?"

"Ha'f-past ten or thereabouts."

Dr. Morgan took his notebook from his pocket and wrote a few lines in
pencil on one of the pages. Then he tore out the leaf and handed it to
the Captain.

"Send that telegram immediately to my assistant in Boston," he said.
"It directs him to send the antitoxin by the early train. If nothing
interferes it should be here in time."

Captain Hiram took the slip of paper and ran out at the door bareheaded.

Dr. Morgan stood in the middle of the floor absent-mindedly looking at
his watch. Sophr