“What with—­the Murphies?” asked the astonished Thad; for he had known Hugh expected to go out to the farm after a sack of potatoes.

“Not this time,” snapped the other; “it’s a poor woman who fainted from cold and exhaustion while she was trying to ask me the way somewhere.  That child is hers.  Come, give me a hand, Thad, and we’ll carry her into the house.  Mother says she must be put to bed right away, and won’t hear of my taking her over to the hospital.”

That aroused Thad, and between them the two stout lads had little difficulty in carrying the still unconscious young woman into the warm house.  Up the stairs Mrs. Morgan and the girl led them, and into the neat spare-room, reserved for favored company.

Once she had been laid on the bed, after the blankets and coverings had been turned down, and the little boy was being soothed by Hugh’s mother, she told the boys they could now go downstairs again, and she would report later as to what next should be done.

“First carry in the potatoes, Hugh, for they are too expensive this season to let the frost get them,” she went on to say, patting the little fellow, whose tears had by now ceased to run down his chubby cheeks; “then call up Doctor Cadmus, and tell him to come around immediately.  I’m sorry your father is away from home just now, but I can depend on my son.”

The boys went out again and lugged the heavy sack of potatoes around to the cellar door, by means of which they were taken in where they would be safe from the bitter air of the winter.  Then Thad was sent around to the neighbor’s with the horse and sleigh, while Hugh meant to get the good physician on the wire, and hasten his coming on an urgent call.

“If Mr. Jones notices that old Bill is wheezing a bit, as if he’d had a warm run of it, please explain how it happened, Thad.  I wouldn’t like him, after all his kindness, to think I’d whip up his horse for nothing, or just in a spirit of sport.”

As it was an hour when Doctor Cadmus was through with his day’s calls, Hugh had the good luck to hear the physician’s voice on the wire.

“Mother wants you to come right over, Doctor!” Hugh told him.

“Who’s sick?” demanded the other, being very fond of all the Morgan family; “not your good mother, I hope, Hugh?”

“No, neither of us, Doctor,” the boy continued.  “I ran upon a young woman and a small child when on the road after potatoes in Mr. Jones’ sleigh.  She fainted dead away before she could tell me who she was, or where she was going.  I managed to get them both aboard, and fetched them here.  Mother has put her to bed; but she is afraid a fever is coming on, and it worries her.  You’ll be here right away, Doctor, won’t you, please?”

“As fast as I can get there, my son!” came the prompt reply.

If there was a touch of pride in the voice one could not wonder at it; for like a good many other people of Scranton Doctor Cadmus had conceived a great liking for Hugh; and thought there had never been another boy fashioned after his model, which, of course, was all nonsense, as Hugh often protested indignantly when he heard any such talk.