“Not much! not much!” exclaimed the storekeeper, hastily. “He’s jest a squatter. Come from one of the lower counties, I b‘lieve. Holler-chested. Bad lungs, he said. Goin’ to live in the open an’ cure ’em.”
“He ought to go to the hospital at once,” growled the doctor.
“I can take him,” said Hester, quietly. “He’s a very brave man, I believe. He warned all the people through the section back of Tentorville——”
“I guess you druv the car, Miss,” cackled Carey, the storekeeper.
“But I should have driven it home in a hurry after finding him on the road without knowing anything about the people in danger,” said the girl, honestly. “He did it.”
“No matter who did it. I want to get him to the hospital. I’ll go to Centerport with him, Miss, if you’ll take us.”
“Of course,” said Hester.
“You know him, Carey,” said the doctor, turning to the storekeeper. “Can I use your name at the hospital in Centerport?”
“No, you can’t,” said the other, quickly. “I can’t stand no ‘nearest friend’ game for a man that never spent fo’ bits a week in my store for groceries. No. I dunno him.”
“We’ll stand sponsor for him, sir,” said Hester, hastily. “Come on. You’ll have to tell me how to drive. I don’t know these roads very well.”