ow you jump out and hitch the horse while I
run in and see that nothing has happened while she's been left alone.
Perhaps you'll have to go for Dr. Perry."

Ivory went in with fear and trembling, for there was no sound save the
ticking of the tall clock. The fire burned low upon the hearth, and the
door was open into his mother's room. He lifted a candle that Rod
had left ready on the table and stole softly to her bedside. She was
sleeping like a child, but exhaustion showed itself in every line of her
face. He felt her hands and feet and found the soapstone in the bed; saw
the brandy bottle and the remains of a cup of milk on the light-stand;
noted the handkerchief, still strong of camphor on the counterpane, and
the blanket spread carefully over her knees, and then turned approvingly
to meet Rod stealing into the room on tiptoe, his eyes big with fear.

"We won't wake her, Rod. I'll watch a while, then sleep on the
sitting-room lounge."

"Let me watch, Ivory! I'd feel better if you'd let me, honest I would!"

The boy's face was drawn with anxiety. Ivory's attention was attracted
by the wistful eyes and the beauty of the forehead under the dark
hair. He seemed something more than the child of yesterday--a care and
responsibility and expense, for all his loving obedience; he seemed all
at once different to-night; older, more dependable, more trustworthy; in
fact, a positive comfort and help in time of trouble.

"I did the best I knew how; was anything wrong?" asked the boy, as Ivory
stood regarding him with a friendly smile.

"Nothing wrong, Rod! Dr. Perry couldn't have done any better with what
you had on hand. I don't know how I should get along without you, boy!"
Here Ivory patted Rod's shoulder. "You're not a child any longer, Rod;
you're a man and a brother, that's what you are; and to prove it I'll
take the first watch and call you up at one o'clock to take the second,
so that I can be ready for my school work to-morrow! How does that suit
you?"

"Tip-top!" said the boy, flushing with pride. "I'll lie down with my
clothes on; it's only nine o'clock and I'll get four hours' sleep;
that's a lot more than Napoleon used to have!"

He carried the Bible upstairs and just before he blew out his candle
he looked again at the chapter in Numbers, thinking he would show it to
Ivory privately next day. Again the story enchanted him, and again, like
a child, he put his own name and his living self among the rods in the