Steve set Bob at work paring and slicing the potatoes they had brought, while he proceeded to cook the chops and set the water boiling for the coffee. Rush went at the work as if it had been his daily task for years. As a matter of fact, he had gotten the meals at home many times when his mother had been too ill to do the work, or was engaged at other tasks.
"We didn't bring you much coal to-night," said Steve apologetically, "because we could not carry any more. You will receive half a ton in the morning, and that will keep you going until your husband can earn money to buy more."
Mrs. Olsen did not answer, for her emotion was too great for words.
"This child must go to the hospital, if we expect to pull her through," announced the doctor at this juncture.
"All right, doctor; when do you want to take her?" questioned Rush.
"She must go to-night."
"Segunder," said Steve, "we are going to take your little girl to the hospital and make her well. You will let the doctor have her for a few days, won't you?"
Olsen nodded, and his wife, with a half-startled look, rose and, going over to the bed, kissed the feverish face of the sick child.
"You will let her go?" urged Steve.