"Just like you!" said Aunt Stanshy to herself.

"And in I went, and I succeeded in getting my man, who is drunk, round to the upper aide of the dock."

"You did splendidly," said Aunt Stanshy, aloud.

"But I had to work for it! And now I want a light, which you may wonder I didn't get before; but I was so anxious to help that fellow, I put and run as soon as I heard him cry, and when I was in the dock I thought I might as well stick to him and work him into a safe place. But haven't you a door in the dock-side of your barn?"

"Y--e--s," said Aunt Stanshy, reluctantly, remembering an old decision about the door. "I will be out, and you take the lantern that you will see in the back entry. Don't mind my floor. I will be out in two minutes."

"Let me go down and show Will about the lantern," said Charlie.

"Are you dressed?"

"O yes. I thought I might help, you know," was the complacent remark of Charlie, who had improved his time, and, while keeping his "ears out," had been putting his legs into his pants as rapidly as possible.

"You have been smarter than your aunt, but she will be there soon."

Charlie showed Will where the lantern hung in the back entry, and together they went into the barn.

"Here is the door," said Charlie, "that lets folks into the dock."

"But how do you get the thing open?" asked Will, flashing the light of his lantern upon the door.

"I will open it," said Aunt Stanshy, who now appeared, and already decided that the door might be consistently opened for a good deed's sake. She carried a hammer in her hand, which she energetically swung about the driven nails, soon removing them. Then she threw back the door, and out into the black night peered anxiously. How long it had been since the last time that she had looked out from that door! She could see nothing at first, but in a moment made out a man's form below. As the rays of Aunt Stanshy's lamp shone out, they made a bridge of light that stretched off into the mist, as if anxious to reach the river and bridge it for some poor, helpless soul in the water.

"Say, friend, you down there?" called out Will.

A voice below answered, "Yesh--hic--I'll help you--up--"

"You will? Better let me help you first."

"Shuit yourself--hic."

Will descended the steps, and found the man leaning against the dock-wall.

"Now, friend, we'll climb these stairs."

"I will--help you--hic--yes--up."

"You are very kind, but let me help you first. Now go it! Tough! You don't gain a peg."

"You'll have me--hic--over--friend."

"Have _you_ over! It's the other way, man."

"Well--shay! It's all right, aint it?--hic."

"O yes! We wont quarrel about it. Look here, folks! haven't you got any thing up there we could steer him by--a rope, perhaps, to which he could cling? The water has risen and come up here, and it's not comfortable in one's stocking-feet. Wish my fire company was here! We would make short work of it."

"Shall I ring the church bell?" asked Charlie, excitedly.

"O don't, don't!"

"Here's a rope," said Aunt Stanshy.

"Yes, yes!" exclaimed Charlie, "and we will pull him in."

"We might do that, or at least help," said Aunt Stanshy, laughing.

"Yesh--hic--pull him in," said the man in the dock.

"We will fasten the rope about you, friend, and they'll draw on it, and perhaps you could hold on to it and draw yourself up, and I will shove you behind. Now, all, a good try!"

Will was now shoving, Aunt Stanshy and Charlie hauling, while the man tried to grasp the sides of the steps; and so, out of the slime and the mist and the night, up into the light, and then into Aunt Stanshy's barn, came the face of--old Tim Tyler!

"Horrors!" said Aunt Stanshy, startled by this unexpected sight of the second mud-turtle. Her face wore, indeed, a look of horror at first, and then the expression changed to one of pity.

Over the door-sill he crawled, and then looking up, he said, in a drunken, but abashed, humiliated way, "Stanshy, is it you? Real--hic--sorry to trouble--hic--you."

Aunt Stanshy made no audible reply, but stood looking away as if into distant years. She was recalling the words uttered by Tim long ago, when he vowed that he would see himself "a-drownin' in that dock first afore he'd ask a favor of her." "He has come up to his word," she said to herself, and then she bowed her troubled face.

"Well, now," said Will, looking round with a worried face, "what next?"

"Guesh I'll--hic--go home now. Thank you, sir," he said, bowing to Will.

"Thank you, Stanshy," and he bowed still lower.

"Timothy," said Aunt Stanshy, calling him by the old name, "I wouldn't turn a dog into the street a night like this, and you had better stay here. I will get you some clothes, and, Will, perhaps you will see that he gets off these."

"And bring me one of my suits, too, please. And if Charlie will bring me a basin and some water, we will wash here. I will look after my man here.

Bring my slippers, please."

"Where's--hic--your boots?"

"O, they concluded to stay in the dock."

"I'll--get--you another pair--hic."

"I may find them at low-water and by daylight."

Tim Tyler stayed at Aunt Stanshy's that night The next morning he was in his right mind, and, thanking Aunt Stanshy, said he must go. Then he lingered, twirling in his hands the old felt hat that was his daily companion, though a much abused one.

"He wants to say something," thought Charlie.

"Constantia, years ago you and I had a falling out. I think I was to blame in tempting that boy's father, and I have often thought so, but have been too proud to say it all these years. I did not like what you said; but no matter, I was to blame for what I did, and I did not answer you back in gentleman-fashion. I want to say I am sorry, and ask you to overlook it and shake hands."

He held out his hand to Aunt Stanshy.

"He has spoken like a man and what will she do?" thought Will.