They laid her down on the settee.
“She’s a human critter and in sore trouble, that’s all I know,” remarked Jack quietly, drawing his coat-sleeve across his eyes as the two stood gazing upon the pitiful sight.
CHAPTER II.
RESCUED.
“Amid all life’s quests,
There seems but worthy one—to do men good.”—Bailey.
A light covered wagon had just drawn up at the depot door, and out of it quickly stepped an elderly gentleman. Hurrying in with youthful alacrity, he glanced with eager haste from side to side of the dingy apartment. A look of keen disappointment swept over his features, changing instantly to one of grief and terror as his eye fell upon the little group about the settee.
“What—who—who is it? What has happened?” he asked tremulously, turning pale, and laying his hand on a chair-back as if to steady himself; then heaving a sigh of relief as the men stepped aside, giving him a view of the prostrate form, Jack Strong saying:
“It’s not Mr. Rolfe, sir, but on’y a poor female woman as has fainted. Mr. Rolfe, he didn’t come. Somebody’s took her child away from her, I do believe. Leastways she was screamin’ for it, and runnin’ arter the cars, which of course she couldn’t ketch. I reckon she’s sick too. Looks mighty bad, anyhow.”
“So she does, poor creature!” said the gentleman, approaching. “We must do something at once to bring her to. Water, Jack—quick! I wish Dr. Wright was here.”