The second house below the hospital was Colonel Gresham’s.  The Colonel himself was stepping into his light buggy, to give Lone Star, his favorite trotter, a little exercise, when Polly rushed up.

“Oh, please, sir!” she panted, “will you catch Dr. Dudley?—­ They want him at the hospital—­and I could n’t make him hear!  He’s right ahead—­in his auto—­the dark green one!  David will die if he don’t come!”

For answer, Polly was whirled into the carriage, and before she could recover her breath Lone Star was making as good time as he had ever made in his short but famous life.

“Whew!  The Colonel is going some!”—­“Who’s that pretty little kid with him?”—­“Don’t he leg it, though!” These and kindred observations were elicited all the way down the street, men stopping to see the well-known horse go by, and children scurrying across his track.

But the Doctor seemed bent on leading his pursuers a lengthy chase, for no sooner had they gained on him sufficiently to set Polly’s heart dancing with hope than he suddenly increased his speed, at once putting a greater distance between them.  Then, slowing for an instant, he vanished round a distant corner.

“Zounds!” muttered the Colonel.

“He turned right opposite that white birch!” cried Polly.

“Sure?”

“Yes; I was keeping watch.”

So was the Colonel; but he had not noticed the tree.

Polly’s assurance held enough decision to satisfy the driver, and he took the turn she had indicated, where the glint of the weeping white birch on the opposite side of the street had caught her observant eye.  But on the cross-road no dark green auto was in sight.

As they came to the first street on the right, however, a solitary car met their eager eyes.

Polly looked her delight, as the swept round the corner and along the hard, clear stretch.  The flicker of a smile was on the Colonel’s rugged face.

“Doc-tor!  Doctor Dud-ley!” called Polly.

The physician turned his head.

“Oh, don’t stop!” she entreated, for he was slowing up, as they came alongside.

“Please go right back—­quick!  David’s worse!”

One astonished glance, and he comprehended, and obeyed.  Colonel Gresham gave him room for the turn.  Then, with a graceful gesture of farewell, and, “I thank you!” he whizzed past them and out of sight.

“Oh, I hope he’ll get there in time!” sighed Polly.

“I think he will,” the Colonel nodded.  “He looks it.”

“I don’t want David to die; he’s such a nice boy.”

Lone Star was taking the road easily, after his spurt of speed.  The lines lay loosely on the Colonel’s knee.

“Is this David some relative of yours?” he asked.