"Please go in the kitchen, and stand near the stove all you can, miss,"

he said.

"But I am not cold any longer," she replied, giving him a smile that told of the grat.i.tude in her heart.

"You need all the warmth you can get," he insisted. "As soon as the coffee is ready, you must swallow a cup or two of it, piping hot. And I think it would do your father good, too."

Accordingly, as there seemed to be a vein of authority in his voice, the girl complied. She found that the coffee was already beginning to simmer, and send out a fragrant smell; for Bristles had made a furious fire, regardless of consequences.

"Hope I don't burn your house down, Sarah," he said. "Excuse me, but I used to know you a long time ago, when you lived in Riverport. My name is Bris--that is, at home they call me Andy Carpenter."

"Oh! I do remember you now," she replied, quickly; "but it is so long ago. Father never mentions Riverport any more; he seems to hate the name. I think some one wronged him there, and it must have been my uncle, because every time I happened to speak of him, he would grow angry, and finally told me never to mention that name again. But you have made this coffee very strong, Andy."

"Fred told me to; he said you both needed it," answered the boy. "And I wouldn't worry if I was you, because I used up all there is. We're going to see that more comes along this way, and that before night."

"Oh! it makes me feel ashamed to think that we are going to be objects of charity," the girl commenced to say, when Bristles stopped her.

"Now, that isn't it at all, Sarah!" he declared, with vehemence; "your pa is a sick man, and unless he gets a doctor soon you may lose him. So I'd just pocket that pride of yours, and let the neighbors do what they want. And if you've been fleeced by that shark of a Squire Lemington, why, there are a lot of others in the same fix. I'd like to see them run him out of town; but he owns a heap of property around Riverport, and that would be hard to do, I suppose. Say, don't that coffee smell good though; you know the kind to get, seems like."

"Johann Swain brought that over the last time he came," she replied, somewhat confused on account of having to make the confession that they were already indebted to another for favors.

When the coffee was done Fred came out and secured a cup of it for the sick man; while Sarah sat down at the kitchen table to drink her portion. Bristles was almost famishing for a taste, but he would not have accepted the first drop, had it smelled twice as good.

After making the two as comfortable as possible, the two boys once more prepared to start on their run toward home. Of course they must expect to come in the very last of all, owing to all these delays; but it was little they cared.

"Expect company before long," sang out Bristles, as, having shaken hands with the sick man and Sarah, they turned to wave farewell to the girl, standing in the open door, and with something approaching a smile on her wan face.

Fred made a proposition before they had gone more than fifty yards.

"What's the use of our finishing, Bristles?" he remarked. "We're hopelessly beaten right now. Suppose we head for home, and get busy going around to speak to a few of our friends about these people here.

I want Doc. Temple to come out; and I know Flo will insist on it when she hears about that poor girl."

"Three to one she comes with him; and that the buggy is crammed full of all the good things they've got at home," a.s.serted Bristles; "because there never was a girl with a bigger heart than Flo."

Fred was of the same opinion himself, though he only nodded, and smiled.

"You see your father, and then drop in to talk it over with several others," he went on to say. "Leave Judge Colon for me. I want to ask him a few questions about what happened between Arnold Masterson and his rich uncle, to make Sarah's father hate him so, and avoid Riverport in the bargain."

When they arrived home the boys quickly changed their clothes, and then started in to tell the story of their recent remarkable experience.

Fred, first of all, enlisted the good will of his own mother, who hurried over to another neighbor to start the ball rolling, with the idea of having a wagon with supplies sent out to the Masterson farm that very afternoon.

His visit to the Temple home was a pleasant affair with Fred. Just as he had expected, Flo was immediately concerned about the family, and asked numerous questions while they were waiting for the genial old doctor to come in at noon from his morning round of sick calls.

Then the doctor drove up, and as soon as he entered the house heard Fred's amazing story. He was quite concerned about it.

"Of course I'll go out there the first thing after lunch, and bring them both through, if I can," he declared, just as Fred had expected would be the case. "Those tramps ought to be followed up, and caged; they're getting bolder every day. I expect that some fine morning we'll find our bank broken open, or else somebody kidnapped, and held for a ransom."

"And I'm going along with you, daddy," said Miss Temple, with an air that announced the fact that she usually had her own way with her parent.

"Did you know this Arnold Masterson, sir; and is he a nephew of the Squire?" asked the boy.

"Yes, to both of your questions, Fred," replied the doctor. "Years back there was a quarrel between them, and a lawsuit that went against Arnold, who disappeared soon afterward. I did not know he still lived within five miles of Riverport, because he is never seen on the streets here. But he was an honest man, which is more than some people think can be said of his rich uncle."

That was all Fred wanted to know, and he took his departure, well satisfied with the way fortune had treated him that morning.

Later on he heard that the people of Riverport had carried enough supplies out to the Masterson farm to last until Christmas. And Doctor Temple reported that not only would Sarah escape any ill results from her experience in the cold waters of the well, but the sick man was going to come around, in time, all right.

CHAPTER VI

THE NEWS CORNEY BROUGHT

The big roller-skating rink had been turned into a splendid gymnasium for the boys and girls of Riverport school; for certain days were to be set aside when the latter should have their turn at basketball and kindred athletic exercises, calculated to make them healthier, and better fitted for their studies.

The headmaster of the school, Professor Brierley, was very much delighted with the way things had gone. He was an advocate of all healthful sports, when not carried to excess. And this spirit which had been awakened in Riverport, was bound, he believed, to make for the betterment of the town in every way.

"Perhaps there'll be less work for Dr. Temple," he remarked, at a meeting of the best citizens, when the gymnasium was handed over to the school trustees; "because there'll be far less sickness among our young people. Though possibly a few accidents, as the result of indiscretion in exercising too violently, may make amends to our physicians."

Meanwhile the young athletes belonging to Riverport school had been as busy as the proverbial bee. Sat.u.r.days were devoted to all sorts of work, each cla.s.s being represented by aspiring claimants for honors.

And when the really deserving ones had finally been selected to do their best for the honor of the school, everyone watched their work with pride, and the hope that they might make the highest pole vault, the longest running jump, the quickest time in the hundred yards, quarter-mile, half mile and five mile races known to amateur athletic meets in that part of the country at least.

Merchants talked with their customers about the coming tournament; and the mildest looking women, whom no one would suspect of knowing the least thing about such affairs, surprised others with their store of knowledge.

The bookstore in town where sporting goods were kept did a land-office business during those days, and had to duplicate their orders to wholesalers frequently.

Stout business men were buying exercisers to fasten to the bathroom doors; or perhaps dumb-bells and Indian clubs, calculated to take off a certain number of pounds of fat. Others boasted of how deftly they were beginning to hit the punching bag; and how much enjoyment the exercise, followed by a cold shower bath, gave them.

Representatives from Mechanicsburg, who wandered down to get a few points that might be calculated to give their athletes renewed confidence, took back tales of the spirit that had swept over the other town on the Mohunk.

And they even said that Paulding was striving with might and main to get in line with the other two places. Her boys expressed a hope that when the favors were handed around, steady old Paulding might not be left entirely out of the running. There were even broad hints that some people were going to get the surprise of their lives when the great day arrived. Paulding always had been a difficult crowd to beat, and would never confess to defeat until the last word had been said.

It was the day just preceding that on which the athletic meet was slated to be held. As before, luck seemed to dwell with Riverport, since the drawing of lots decided that the tournament must be held on her grounds, outside of town. And it seemed about right that this should be the case, since Riverport lay between her two rivals on the Mohunk, one being three, the other seven miles away.

Nothing else was talked of those days, after school, but the proposed meet. On the field itself there gathered crowds of boys and girls who hovered in groups while the various candidates went through their work; and either praised, or criticised; for it is always easy to do the latter.

So on this morning of the day preceding the great event, whenever boys ran across each other on the street, it was always with questions concerning the condition of those upon whom Riverport depended to win the most points in the tournament. At no time in the past had the state of health of these lads interested more than a very small portion of the community. Now everybody heaved a sigh of satisfaction upon learning that Colon was said to be in better trim than ever before in all his life, or that Sid Wells, Fred Fenton and Bristles Carpenter were just feeling "fine."

Whenever one of those who were expected to take part made his appearance on the street he had a regular following, all hanging on every word he spoke, "just as if he might be an oracle," as Bristles humorously remarked.

"Wait till Sunday morning, and then see if some balloons haven't busted," he went on to remark, as several fellows gathered around him that bright autumn morning, when there had been a sharp tang of frost in the air; "a lot of us will fail to score a beat, and then see how quick they drop us. Some will even be cruel enough to say they always knew that Bristles Carpenter was a big fake; and that when it came right down to business he never was able to hold up his end; and they never could see why the committee put him on the roll of would-be heroes."

"Sure! and the next day it rained!" called back little Semi-Colon, whose size debarred him from taking any part in the athletic contests, a fact he deplored many times, for he had the spirit of a warrior in his small body.

"Anyhow, Sunday will be a good day to rest, and stay indoors, to avoid all the cruel things that will be fired at a fellow Monday," grinned Bristles.

"Say, don't talk like that, old man," remarked another of the group; "seems like you might be getting all ready for a funeral. I don't like it. Better do some boasting, and give us a chance to feel we're going to carry Mechanicsburg right off her feet."