“Who is she anyway?” asked Joe. “Do you know her?”
“Slightly,” replied Doctor Templeton. “Her name is Bultoza. A foreigner of some kind, though she speaks fairly good English. She and her husband have lived here for some time. He’s a queer kind of chap, but he’s gone to New York, I believe, where she intended to join him. That old house has been condemned and was going to be torn down that another one might be built on its site, and the other families that were living there have moved away. That’s the reason she happened to be the only occupant. Well, the fire has done the work now, and there won’t be much left of the old house to be pulled down.”
At this moment a woman detached herself from the group gathered about Mrs. Bultoza and came over to Joe.
“She wants to see you and thank you for saving her life,” the messenger said.
Joe would have liked to escape this, for he was as modest as he was brave.
“Better go,” urged the doctor as Joe hesitated. “It will relieve her mind and help in her recovery from the shock.”
Thus adjured, Joe, with Jim and the doctor, went over to the group, which parted to let them through.
Mrs. Bultoza, her face and hands bandaged, was propped against a tree. She had a swarthy complexion that betrayed her foreign origin. Joe saw that she was no longer young.
Her eyes, which were kindly and intelligent, brightened as she looked at Joe and then filled with tears.