"He'll be delayed by snow. The moon's near gone. 'Twill be black dark in half an hour. I felt a flake o' snow as I come in. An' he'll maybe wait at Mad Harry——"
"He's comin' by the Bight, Joe."
Dolly stirred—cried out—awakened with a start—and lifted her bandaged head a little.
She did not open her eyes.
"Is that you, Doctor Luke, sir?" she plainted.
"Hush!" the mother whispered. "'Tis not the Doctor yet."
"When——"
"He's comin'."
"I'll take a look," said Joe.
He went out again and stumbled down the path to Blow-me-Down Dick by Tickle-my-Ribs.