ations, I guess,"
said the doctor.

"Prison rules!" exclaimed Mrs. French with wrath rare in her.
"I'll go straight to the Judge myself."

"Get in," said the doctor, taking up the lines.

"Where are you going? We can't leave these poor things in this way,"
the tears gathering in her eyes and her voice beginning to break.

"Not much," said the doctor briskly; "we are evidently in for
another scrap. I don't know where you will land me finally,
but I'm game to follow your lead. We'll go to the jail."

Mrs. French considered a moment. "Let us first take these children
to the hospital and then we shall meet Paulina at the jail."

"All right," said the doctor, "tell them so. I am at your service."

"You are awfully good, Doctor," said the little lady, her sweet
smile once more finding its way to her pale face.

"Ain't I, though?" said the doctor. "If the spring were a little
further advanced you'd see my wings sprouting. I enjoy this.
I haven't had such fun since my last football match. I see the
finish of that jail guard. Come on."

Within an hour the doctor and Mrs. French drove up to the jail.
There, at the bleak north door, swept by the chill March wind, and
away from the genial light of the shining sun, they found Paulina
and her children, a shivering, timid, shrinking group, looking
pathetically strange and forlorn in their quaint Galician garb.

The pathos of the picture appeared to strike both the doctor and
his friend at the same time.

"Brute!" said the doctor, "it's some beast of an understrapper.
He might have let them in, anyway. I'll see the head turnkey."

"Isn't it terribly sad?" replied Mrs. French.

The doctor rang the bell at the jail door, prepared for battle.

"I want to see Mr. Cowan."

The guard glanced past the doctor, saw the shrinking group behind
him and gruffly announced, "This is not the hour for visitors."

"I want to see Mr. Cowan," repeated the doctor slowly, looking
the guard steadily in the eye. "Is he in?"

"Come in," said the guard sullenly, allowing the doctor and
his friend to enter, and shutting the door in the faces of
the Galicians.

In a few moments Mr. Cowan appeared, a tall athletic man, kindly of
face and of manner. He greeted Mrs. French and the doctor warmly.

"Come into the office," he said; "come in."

"Mr. Cowan," said Mrs. French, "there is a poor Galician woman and
her children outside the door, the wife and children of the man who
was condemned yes