whistle. Come on, Mr. Hazeltine, if you ain't in a special hurry. Maybe
we WILL need you."

They reached the corner by the post-office to find Dr. Palmer, who had
practiced medicine in Orham since he received his diploma, waiting for
them. Captain Perez, who had discovered the physician on the Nickerson
piazza, was standing close by with his fingers in his mouth, whistling
with the regularity of a foghorn.

"Cut it short, Perez!" commanded Eri. "We're here now."

"Yes, but Jerry ain't." And the whistling began again.

"Dry up, for the land's sake! D'you want to fetch the whole tribe here?
There's Jerry, now. Come on, Doctor."

John Baxter was lying just as the Captain had left him, and the others
watched anxiously as the doctor listened at the parted lips, and thrust
his hand inside the faded blue waistcoat.

"He's alive," he said after a moment, "but unconscious. We must get him
home at once."

"He heard the bell and was runnin' to the fire when he was took," said
Captain Jerry. "Run out in his shirt sleeves, and was took when he got
as fur as here."

"That's the way I figger it," said Eri unblushingly. "Lift him
carefully, you fellers. Now then!"

"I warned him against over-exertion or excitement months ago," said the
Doctor, as they bore the senseless burden toward the big house, now as
black as the grave that was so near its owner. "We must find someone
to take care of him at once. I don't believe the old man has a relation
within a hundred miles."

"Why don't we take him to our house?" suggested Captain Jerry.
"'Twouldn't seem so plaguey lonesome, anyhow."

"By mighty!" ejaculated Captain Eri in astonishment. "Well, Jerry, I'll
be switched if you ain't right down brilliant once in a while. Of course
we will. He can have the spare room. Why didn't I think of that, I
wonder?"

And so John Baxter, who had not paid a visit in his native village since
his wife died, came at last to his friend's home to pay what seemed
likely to be a final one. They carried him up the stairs to the spare
room, as dismal and cheerless as spare rooms in the country generally
are, undressed him as tenderly as their rough hands would allow, robed
him in one of Captain Jerry's nightshirts--the buttons that fastened
it had been sewed on by the Captain himself, and were all sizes and
colors--and laid him in the big corded bedstead. The Doctor hastened
away to procure his medicine case. Ralph Hazeltine, having been
profusely th