Then Doctor Carey appeared so disturbed the Harvester noticed it.
“You needn't think I'd be here prating about her if I wasn't FORCED. If she had been rosy and well as she was in the dream, I'd have made my hunt alone and found her, too. But when I saw she was sick and in trouble, it took all the courage out of me, and I broke for help. She must be found at once, and when she is you are probably the first man I'll want. I am going to put up a pretty stiff search myself, and if I find her I'll send or get her to you if I can. Put her in the best ward you have and anything money will do——”
The face of the doctor was growing troubled.
“Day coach or Pullman?” he asked.
“Day.”
“How was she dressed?”
“Small black hat, very plain. Gray jacket and skirt, neat as a flower.”
“What you'd call expensively dressed?”
The Harvester hesitated.
“What I'd call carefully dressed, but——but poverty poor, if you will have it, Doc.”