Just in time! Something came up in Bertha’s throat and half-choked her, and at that moment the inspector came into the room, but paused just across the threshold as if he were fairly staggered at the scene upon which he had stumbled.
“You see, there was a need for me to ride so hard,” said Bertha to him, as she swung out her hand to call attention to the ruin of the breakfast table.
“Steady, there! What is the matter?” asked the inspector, turning his attention to the man, who was again making feeble attempts to rise, and, stooping, he lifted the poor fellow in his strong arms, then sat him gently in the rocking chair, after which he shut the door; for more cold was coming in than was good for anyone.
“I must get on. Don’t you see that I have work to do?” said the sick man urgently. “And if I don’t give satisfaction on this trip I shall get turned off, and then it will be starvation.”
“Steady, there, steady, your job is going on all right!” said the inspector soothingly, but keeping his hand on the man in order to prevent him from falling out of the chair. Then he said to Bertha, in a low tone: “We must have been at cross purposes, I think, for this is not the man we are after. There is not much of the rogue about him, I fancy. But would you mind just stepping to the door and asking my mate to come in, then we will help you to clear up a bit, while we make up our minds what is the best thing to do for you and this poor chap.”
Bertha went to the door and called the other man in, and then was amazed at the manner in which the two set to work and tidied up the disordered room, while she made coffee and broiled bacon to make them a breakfast, for they had had nothing since the previous night.
The children, their terror all gone, were making friends with the police, and Dicky was telling the inspector how useful he was at helping Bertha in the barn, now that his father was away, and then Molly chimed in with the story of her achievements; but Noll and the twins had gone to their usual cover under their mother’s couch, and were surveying the scene from that safe vantage-ground.
Bertha prepared a small cup of bread and milk and approached the stranger, asking him if he could feed himself, or whether he would like her to do it for him.
“I can manage, thank you,” he said, looking up at her with his languid eyes, and then he asked, “Will you please tell me where it is that I have seen you before?”
Bertha looked at him in surprise, and then remembering how ill he had seemed all night, she said gently, “I do not think that you have ever seen me until last night, only you were so bad then, that I expect that it seems as if it were a week or two ago.”