CHAPTER III.
A TIMELY RESCUE.
Mark Manning left the cabin and made his way as quickly as possible to the edge of the wood. He hadn't got over his wonder at the hermit's commission and singular confidence in him.
"It seems strange," he said to himself, "to have so much money in my pocket. Nearly thirty dollars! I wonder whether I shall ever have as much of my own?"
In truth, thirty dollars seemed a much larger sum to our hero, brought up in a hand to hand struggle with poverty, than it would have appeared if he had been ten years older.
"He must have more money," thought Mark, "or he would not care so little for this sum as to trust it all to me. How does he know that I will prove honest?"
Nevertheless it was a satisfaction to Mark to reflect that old Anthony was justified in his confidence. Had the sum been ten times as large, he would not have been tempted to retain any of it for his own use.
He kept on his way to the drug store, and asked for the medicines already referred to.
"Is your mother sick?" asked the druggist, who was very well acquainted with Mark and his family.
"No, sir," answered Mark.
"Oh, then it is you who are rheumatic," said the druggist jokingly.