The boy darted ahead and Gloria quickly followed. She saw nothing of disorder as she went through the briar path, nor did she notice the other signs of neglect that confronted her as she hurried to get into the dingy old house.
But within! What a sight!
“She’s dyin’! She’s dyin’!” moaned Ellen, the oldest girl, who, with a tiny baby huddled in her arms, was wailing and swaying up and down against the disordered bed upon which Gloria now saw the afflicted mother.
“Oh!” gasped Gloria. “You poor—poor creature!”
Gasping for breath and uttering choking gasps the woman lay there, and even in her agony she seemed to be trying to quiet her panic-stricken little ones. Now she fastened her eyes upon the stranger and tossed her head from side to side, struggling to say something, but only biting back the attempt with colorless lips.
“What is it?” demanded Gloria, from Ellen.
“She—she took another—dose!”
“Of what?”
“The—medicine,” gasped the frightened girl. “He told her not to take any more, but—she couldn’t stand the pain! Oh, don’t let her die until father comes!”
“Where is he?”