t, have we got to tramp all the way back to
Winthrop?"

"Looks that way."

"Can't we get a car here somewhere?"

"Hardly. We might try it at that farmhouse over yonder," replied Mott
pointing toward a low house not far away as he spoke.

"Come ahead! Let's try it anyway," suggested Will eagerly.

The boys at once hastened to the place, and after a brief delay
succeeded in summoning the young farmer who lived there. They made their
wishes known, but in response the man said, "Can't do it anyhow. My
wife's sick and I'm goin' for the doctor now."

"Where is he?" demanded Will eagerly.

"Over at the Junction."

Will knew where the Junction was, a little hamlet about seven miles from
Winthrop. How far it was distant from the place where he then was,
however, he had no idea. It was easy to ascertain, and in response to
his question the farmer explained that it was "about three mile."

"You might take us there, then," said Will quickly. "I don't know just
how the trains run for Winthrop, but it'll be three miles nearer
anyway."

"Yes, I'll be glad to take you there."

"How much are you going to charge us?" demanded Mott who did not plan to
be caught again by the "guilelessness" of any of the people of the
region.

"Oh, I sha'n't charge ye anything. Glad t' do ye the favor," responded
the farmer heartily.

In a brief time his car was ready, and, acting upon his suggestion, the
boys at once took their places on the seat, and the driver soon was
briskly speeding down the roadway.

Conversation lagged, for the boys were somewhat wearied by their long
tramp and the young farmer was silent, doubtless anxious over the
illness in his home. When a brief time had elapsed he deposited the boys
on the platform of the little station at the Junction, and again
declining any offer on their part to pay for the service he had rendered
them at once departed in his search for the physician.

Approaching the little window in the ticket office Mott inquired,
"What's the next train we can get for Winthrop?"

"No more trains to-night," responded the man without looking up from the
noisy clicker over which he was bending.

"No more trains?"

"That's what I said. The last one passed here fifteen minutes ago."

"Isn't there any way we can get there?"

"I s'pose there is."

"What is it?" demanded Mott eagerly.

"Walk."

"How far is it?"

"Seven miles."

"And there's no other way?"

"You won't be the first that have c