“Oh, you must not!” she cried.  “I can walk perfectly well, and I don’t need your coat.  Please, please put on your coat and let me walk!  You will take a terrible cold!”

“I can run better without it,” he explained, briefly, “and we can get out of the way of those fellows quicker this way!”

So she lay still in his arms till he put her down again.  He looked up and down either way, hoping to see the familiar red-and-green lights of a drug-store open late; but none greeted him; all the buildings seemed to be residences.

Somewhere in the distance he heard the whir of a late trolley.  He glanced at his watch.  It was half past one.  If only a taxicab would come along.  But no taxi was in sight.  The girl was begging him to put on his overcoat.  She had drawn it from her own shoulders and was holding it out to him insistently.  But with the rare smile that Courtland was noted for he took the coat and wrapped it firmly about her shoulders again, this time putting her arms in the sleeves and buttoning it up to the chin.

“Now,” said he, “you’re not to take that off again until we get where it is warm.  You needn’t worry about me.  I’m quite used to going out in all weathers without my coat as often as with it.  Besides, I’ve been exercising.  When did you have something to eat?”

“When I left the hospital this evening.  I had some strong beef-tea,” she answered, airily, as if that had been only a few minutes before.

“How did you happen to be where I found you?” he asked, looking at her keenly.

“Why, I must have missed my way, I think,” she explained, “and I felt a little weak from having been in bed so long.  I just sat down on a door-step to rest a minute before I went on, and I’m afraid I must have fallen asleep.”

“You were walking?” His tone was stern.  “Why were you walking?”

A desperate look came into her face.  “Well, I hadn’t any car fare, if you must know the reason.”

They were passing a street light as she said it, and he looked down at her fine little white profile in wonder and awe.  He felt a sudden choking in his throat and a mist in his eyes.  He had it on the tip of his tongue to say, “You poor little girl!” but instead he said, in a tone of intense admiration: 

“Well, you certainly are the pluckiest girl I ever saw!  You have your nerve with you all right!  But you’re not going to walk another step to-night!”

And with that he stooped, gathered her up again, and strode forward.  He could hear the distant whir of another trolley, and he determined to take it, no matter which way it was going.  It would take them somewhere and he could telephone for an ambulance.  So he sprinted forward, regardless of her protests, and arrived at the next corner just in time to catch the car going cityward.

There was nobody else in the car and he made her keep the coat about her.  He couldn’t help seeing how worn and thin her little shabby shoes were, and how she shivered now even in the great coat.  He saw she was just keeping up her nerve, and he was filled with admiration.