ou WALK from Chris
Badger's? Where's your horse and team? You didn't walk from the Centre,
did you?"

"'Course I didn't. Think I'm a dum fool? My horse fell down and hurt his
knee and I left him in Badger's barn. I cal'lated to go to Kenelm's and
put up over night. I--"

He was interrupted by Emily, who entered with a glass in her hand.

"Here's the water, Auntie," she said. "Is he better now?"

"Better?" snorted Solomon. "What's the matter with you? I ain't sick.
What you got in that tumbler? Water! What in time do I want of any more
water? Don't I look as if I'd had water enough to last me one spell?
I'm--consarn it all, I'm a reg'lar sponge! How far off is Kenelm's from
here? How long will it take me to get there?"

Thankful answered, and her answer was decisive.

"I don't know," she said, "but I do know you ain't goin' to try to get
anywhere 'till mornin'. You and I ain't been any too lovin', Solomon
Cobb, but I shan't take the responsibility of your dyin' of pneumonia.
You'll stay right here, and the first thing I'll do is head off that
chill you've got this very minute."

There was no doubt about the chill. Solomon's face and hands were
blue and he was shaking from head to foot. But his determination was
unshaken. He strode to the door.

"How do I get to Parker's?" he demanded.

"I tell you you mustn't go to Parker's or anywhere else. You're riskin'
your life."

Mr. Cobb did not answer. He lifted the latch and pulled the door open. A
howling gust of wind-driven rain beat in upon him, drenching the carpet
and causing the lamp to flicker and smoke. For a moment Solomon gazed
out into the storm; then he relinquished his hold and staggered back.

"I--I can't do it!" he groaned. "I've GOT to stay here! I've GOT to!"

Thankful, exerting all her strength, closed the door and locked it.
"Indeed you've got to," she declared. "Now go out into the kitchen and
set by the stove while I heat a kettle and make you some ginger tea or
somethin'."

Solomon hesitated.

"He must, Aunt Thankful," urged Emily; "he really must."

The visitor turned to stare at her.

"Who are you?" he demanded, ungraciously. Then, as another chill racked
him from head to foot, he added: "I don't care. Take me somewheres and
give me somethin'--ginger tea or--or kerosene or anything else, so it's
hot. I--I'm--sho--oo--ook all to--pi--ic--ces."

They led him to the kitchen, where Thankful prepared the ginger tea.
During its preparation