“Help me to get well, and you shall have it on your own terms.”

“You will need some one besides myself.  Do you authorize me to hire an attendant?”

“Yes, I shall be glad to have you do so.  I begin to hope for recovery, through your assistance.  I had given myself up for lost.”

“Then I will go out and see what I can do.  Do you authorize me to pay liberally for the service of a nurse?”

“Pay anything—­fifty dollars a week, if necessary; I can afford it.”

“I will go out at once.  I will see if I can buy some oranges.”

Andy left the hotel and walked toward the steamboat wharf.  It was deserted, except by two persons.

A young man of thirty, bronzed by exposure to the weather, who looked like a farmer, stood beside a plain, cheap trunk, on which sat a woman somewhat younger, who had a weary and anxious look.

The young man—­her husband, doubtless—­seemed troubled.

“Good-afternoon,” said Andy, pleasantly.  “Are you in any trouble?  Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Well, my boy, I’m in a tight place.  I came here from Iowa, with my wife, expecting to meet a cousin who had promised to get me employment.  I find he has left Tacoma.  So here I am, with less than five dollars in my pocket and no prospect of work.  I’m not a coward, but I don’t mind saying I’m afraid to think of what will become of us.”

An idea came to Andy.

Here was a chance to secure a nurse.

“Is your wife used to sickness?” he asked.  “Could she take care of a sick man?”

The woman brightened up.

“I took care of my father for a year,” she answered.  “I’m a middlin’ good nurse.”

“She’s the best nurse I know of,” put in her husband.

“All right!  Then I can find you employment.  An acquaintance of mine, an old man—­as old, probably, as your father—­is sick with grip at the Tacoma House.  He will pay you liberally.  Can you come with me at once?”

“Yes, and be glad to.”

“Come, then.  You will be paid twenty-five dollars a week.”

“Why that’s a fortune!” said the woman, amazed.

“Come with me at once, and your husband can follow at his leisure.”

“Maria, that’s what I call a streak of good luck,” said her husband, overjoyed.  “Go along with this young man, and I’ll get a cheap room somewhere in town.  I’ll take the trunk along with me.”

He shouldered the small trunk, and his wife went off with Andy.

In a few minutes she was installed in the sick chamber, and soon showed that she understood her business.  A doctor was sent for, and Seth Johnson, for this was the sick man’s name, was soon made comfortable.

He ratified Andy’s bargain, and paid, besides, for Mrs. Graham’s board at the hotel.  He did not gain rapidly, for his strength was at a low ebb, but he improved steadily.

The husband found employment in a couple of days, and their temporary despondency gave place to hope and courage.