against the stretcher-bearer's knee.

"Well," said the doctor, rising and dusting his hands one against the
other, "we won't need the stretcher. Two of you take him under his
arms and help him up."

The burly Russian ambulance men hoisted him easily enough and stood
supporting him while he hung between them weakly. Still his eyes
wandered, seeking dumbly in the big room. The doctor turned to speak
to the vice-consul, and Miss Pilgrim moved forward to the sick man.

"Yes?" she questioned, in her uncertain Russian. "Yes? What is it?"

He made feeble sounds, but Mr. Baruch heard no shaped word. Miss
Pilgrim, however, seemed to understand.

"Oh, your rugs!" she answered. "They're all here, quite safe." She
pointed to the bundle, lying where it had been thrust aside. "Quite
safe, you see."

Mr. Baruch said no word. The silken carpet that he had removed was
out of sight upon the farther side of the big central table of the
office. The peddler groaned again and murmured; Miss Pilgrim bent
forward to give ear. Mr. Baruch, quietly and deliberately as always,
moved to join the conference of the doctor and Selby. He was making a
third to their conversation when Miss Pilgrim turned.

"One more?" she was saying. "Is there one more? Mr. Baruch, did you--
Oh, there it is!"

She moved across to fetch it. The peddler's eyes followed her
slavishly. Mr. Baruch smiled.

"Yes?" he said. "Oh, that carpet! He wants to sell it yes?"

"He isn't fit to do any bargaining yet," replied Miss Pilgrim, and
Mr. Baruch nodded agreeably.

The doctor and Selby finished their talk, and the former came back
into the group.

"Well, take him down to the ambulance," he bade the men.

They moved to obey, but the sick man, mouthing strange sounds, seemed
to try to hang back, making gestures with his head towards the
disregarded bundle that was the whole of his earthly wealth.

"What's the matter with him?" cried the doctor impatiently. "Those
rugs? Oh, we can't take a hotbed of microbes like that to the
hospital! Move him along there!"

"And I'm not going to have 'em here," barked Selby. The peddler, limp
between the big stretcher bearers, moaned and seemed to shiver in a
vain effort to free himself.

"Wait, please!" Miss Pilgrim came forward. She had been folding the
silken rug of Mr. Baruch's choice, and was now carrying it before
her. It was as though she wore an apron of dawn gold and sunset red.

The pitiful man rolled meek imploring