keeled
over. Mighty foolish of me. Oh, my leg!"

A spasm of pain shot over his face.

"Lie still," said Betty soothingly. "We will send for help. Here, drink
this," and she held some water to his lips. He supported himself on his
elbow, and drank greedily.

"First I had in a long time," he apologized huskily.

Mollie and Grace were making the fire, while Amy was washing out the
pot, and putting some ground coffee in it. The stove was blazing well,
and the kettle was put on to boil. The man drank some more water and
seemed better.

"I slipped and fell coming home the other day," he explained. "I didn't
think it was much more than a sprain at first, but the next morning I
couldn't walk, and I knew my leg was broken. Then come this last big
storm, and nobody passed here. I yelled for help until I was hoarse, but
it did no good. I had about given up when you girls came along. I
haven't been able to even crawl, the pain was so bad. I just had to keep
covered up to prevent freezing."

"You'll soon be all right," said Betty soothingly. "We are making
coffee."

"Yes, I can smell it. It's mighty good of you girls."

"You know who we are; don't you?" asked Mollie.

"I can't say as I do. The light ain't very good in here."

"Don't you remember the girls who were stranded in the ice boat; and how
you pulled us to shore?"

"Oh, are you those girls? Well, land be!"

"Here is some coffee," said Betty, pouring out a fragrant cup. "I
couldn't find any milk, though."

"I never use it. I like it black. You can sweeten it with molasses.
You'll find some in that jug," and he indicated it. "Well, well, to
think you're those girls!" he murmured as he sipped the hot beverage.
Every moment he seemed to be stronger, though his pain in his leg made
him wince every now and then.

"We must get a doctor for you--or send the boys," spoke Betty. "Won't
you tell us who you are? So we will know how to tell the physician."

The man hesitated a moment, and looked sharply at the girls.

"I didn't aim to tell my name," he said slowly. "I didn't want it known
that I had come back. But I can't see that there's any harm in telling
you girls. You won't know my story, and I guess the doctor won't either.
I'm Paddy Malone!"

Grace started. The name stirred half-forgotten memories.

"What!" she cried. "Paddy Malone, who used to work for Mr. Ford?"

It was the turn of the lumberman to start.

"Mr. Ford!" he exclaimed. "Do you know Mr. Ford