"Miss Pringle is awfully good," the young farm manager said stoutly. "I do not know what we would have done without her."
"I don't know what I would have done without you, Mr. Strong. She's told me how you thought I had smallpox, and yet picked me up and brought me here."
"You've got the cart before the horse," chuckled Hiram. "I got you up here from that shed before I discovered that you were breaking out in such shape. How did you get to the shed?"
"I haven't a very clear remembrance of it," confessed Orrin Post. "I felt pretty bad."
"Had you traveled far?"
"I had a job with a farmer all winter at Roundspring. But I was taken down with this fever and he told me I had better go because he was afraid his children would catch it. I couldn't blame him—much. So I started west."
"Wasn't there any place they would take you in? No hospital?"
"I didn't happen to stop at a hospital," said Orrin Post dryly.
"And nobody offered to do anything for you?"
"I do not remember that any one did. I was kind of flighty the last day or two, I guess."