e--that's what. I don't know what
would have become of me. And you'll never be sorry for it."

And, choking somewhat, Collin Spencer turned down the street to his
mother's home.

It seemed to Trudy that it was the strangest piece of good fortune in
the world which had taken place. After all the dark worry her true young
heart had known, she could hardly believe it. And yet a stranger thing
was to happen then and there.

As they walked on, Trudy's eyes turned down the street and fixed
themselves upon a figure coming rapidly towards them, or as rapidly as
was possible. The figure, which was small and bent in the shoulders,
limped. Rosalie saw it at the same instant.

"See! who is that?" she asked, in wonder.

"It's Ichabod," said Trudy--"why, it's Ichabod! And I left him sick
abed. Whatever is the matter?"

Ichabod came hurriedly limping on. It became plain that he had seen them
and was hastening to reach them; and Trudy ran forward.

"Why, Ichabod," she cried, in remonstrance, "if you didn't get up! Were
you able? No; see how tired you are!"

Certainly Ichabod was. He leaned against the fence a minute, and then,
giving it up, sat down on the grass beside it, pulling off his old hat
and fanning himself.

Something else dawned upon Trudy. Ichabod was excited. That indeed
seemed to be the greater cause of his exhaustion, for he sat blinking up
at Trudy in a peculiar manner and tried vainly to speak.

Mrs. Scott and Rosalie had come up, and paused. Too courteous to smile,
they looked their perplexity.

"What _is_ the matter, Ichabod?" said Trudy, again. She began to feel
some alarm. "What made you get up? What _have_ you been doing?"

Ichabod, slowly and painfully, rose to his feet.

"I was calc'lating to git up. Didn't I say to ye I was? Didn't I say I
was goin' to git up soon as ever I could? And what fer did I say? Why, I
was goin' to ask a favor o' Mr. Doolittle--jest a leetle favor."

"Oh!" said Trudy, remembering.

She had forgotten the old man's queer talk about the box in the closet,
and the papers in the box, and his odd eagerness concerning them.

"Seein' you--" continued the old man. "Well, I couldn't stan' it another
minute arter that. I jest got up. I _was_ kind o' weak in my legs to the
fust, but I got thar. I got to Mr. Doolittle's office, and thar he was
settin'. He knows me, Mr. Doolittle does, and I wan't afraid to ask that
leetle favor of him."

Ichabod had got back his breath and his