"I can't say as I do. The light ain't very good in here."
"Don't you remember the girls who were stranded in the ice boat; and how you pulled us to shore?"
"Oh, are you those girls? Well, land be!"
"Here is some coffee," said Betty, pouring out a fragrant cup. "I couldn't find any milk, though."
"I never use it. I like it black. You can sweeten it with molasses. You'll find some in that jug," and he indicated it. "Well, well, to think you're those girls!" he murmured as he sipped the hot beverage. Every moment he seemed to be stronger, though his pain in his leg made him wince every now and then.
"We must get a doctor for you—or send the boys," spoke Betty. "Won't you tell us who you are? So we will know how to tell the physician."
The man hesitated a moment, and looked sharply at the girls.
"I didn't aim to tell my name," he said slowly. "I didn't want it known that I had come back. But I can't see that there's any harm in telling you girls. You won't know my story, and I guess the doctor won't either. I'm Paddy Malone!"
Grace started. The name stirred half-forgotten memories.
"What!" she cried. "Paddy Malone, who used to work for Mr. Ford?"