"Ah, I feared so," exclaimed Mr. Westmore, after a brief examination. "We must have the doctor at once. Is there anyone near who will go for him, Mrs. Stickles?"
"Not a man, sir, that's fit to go. They're all in the woods. Oh, what kin we do!"
"Don't worry, Mrs. Stickles," was the reassuring reply. "Midnight will go, and I will hold the reins. Come, Dan, the horse, quick."
As Midnight drew up to the door a few minutes later, Parson John came out of the house and affectionately patted the sleek neck of the noble animal.
"Remember, Midnight," he said, "you must do your best to-day. It's for the sake of the little lass, and she was getting hay for you. Don't forget that."
Chapter XIII
For the Sake of a Child
Night had shut down over the land as Midnight, with her long, swinging strides, clipped through the lighted streets of the prosperous little railway town of Bradin, and drew up at old Doctor Leeds' snug house. A fast express had just thundered shrieking by. A strong, cutting wind racing in from the Northeast was tearing through the sinuous telegraph wires with a buzzing sound, the weird prelude of a coming storm.
The worthy doctor was at home, having only lately returned from a long drive into the country. He and his wife, a kindly-faced little woman, were just sitting down to their quiet meal. Seldom could they have an evening together, for the doctor's field was a large one and his patients numerous.
"You have no engagement for to-night, I hope, Joseph," remarked his wife, as she poured the tea.