time--No.
3. Do you--do you think you could?"

"Of course," Neil answered heartily, "I'll be glad to. Three, you said?
All right. I'll take this nag down to the blacksmith's now and get him
reshod. If they can fix him right off I'll bring him back with me. Where
do you stable him?"

"The janitor takes it down-stairs somewhere. If I'm not here just give
it to him, please. I wish, though, you wouldn't bother about bringing
it back."

"I'll ride him back," laughed Neil. "Good-night."

"Good-night. Don't forget you're coming to see me."

Sydney Burr smiled and, turning, climbed the steps with astonishing
ease, using his crutches with a dexterity born of many years' dependence
upon them. His lower limbs, slender and frail, swung from side to side,
mere useless appendages. Neil sighed as he saw his new acquaintance out
of sight, and then started on his errand with the tricycle.

"Poor duffer!" he muttered. "And yet he seems cheerful enough, and looks
happy. But to think of having to creep round on stilts or pull himself
about on this contrivance! I mustn't forget to call on him; I dare say
he hasn't many friends. He seems a nice chap, too; and he'd be
frightfully good-looking if he wasn't so white."

It was almost dark when he reached the repair-shop near the railroad,
and the proprietor, a wizened little bald-headed man, was preparing
to go home.

"Can't fix anything to-night," he protested shrilly. "It's too late;
come in the morning."

"Well, if you think I'm going to wheel this thing back here to-morrow
you've missed your guess," said Neil. "All it needs is to have a chain
link welded or glued or something; it won't take five minutes. And the
fellow that owns it is a cripple and can't go out until this machine's
fixed. Now go ahead, like a good chap; I'll hold your bonnet."

"Eh? What bonnet?" The little man stared perplexedly.

"I meant I'd help," answered Neil unabashed.

"Help! Huh! Lot's of help, you'd be to any one! Well, let's see it." He
knelt and inspected the tricycle, grumbling all the while and shaking
his head angrily. "Who said it was broke?" he demanded presently. "Queer
kind of break; looks like you'd pried the link apart with a
cold-chisel."

"Well, I didn't; nor with a hot chisel. Besides, I've just told you it
didn't belong to me. Do I look like a cripple?"

"More like a fool," answered the other with a chuckle.

"You're a naughty old man," said Neil sorrowfully, "and if you were my