“Oh, you mustn’t!” cried Carolyn May. “You mustn’t give up. Crawl onto my sled. Prince and I can drag you to Miss Amanda’s. Of course, we can.” “Believe you’d better leave me here, matey,” muttered the man. But Carolyn May would not hear to that. She bustled about, brought the sled closer to him, and made Prince stand around properly in his harness. Then she guided the half-blinded man to the sled, on which he managed to drop himself. “But that dog can’t never pull me, matey,” he declared faintly. “Oh, yes, he can,” said Carolyn May cheerfully. “I can help, too. When you _have_ to do a thing, my Aunty Rose says, you just up and do it. Now, Princey—_pull_!” CHAPTER XV—THE OLD SAILOR Aunty Rose’s philosophy must have been correct. Prince pulled, and Carolyn May pulled, and together they got the sled, with the old sailor upon it, to the Parlow carpenter shop. Mr. Parlow slid back the front door of his shop to stare in wonder at the group. “For the great land of Jehoshaphat!” he croaked. “Car’lyn May! what you got there?” “Oh, Mr. Parlow, do come and help us—quick!” gasped the little girl. “My friend has had a dreadful bad fall.” “Your friend?” repeated the carpenter. “I declare, it’s that tramp that went by here just now!” “Oh, no, sir! he isn’t a tramp,” declared Carolyn May firmly. “Why ain’t he, I sh’d like to know?” grumbled Mr. Parlow, coming gingerly forward. “Why, if he were, Prince wouldn’t have anything to do with him,” was the little girl’s assured reply. “This gentleman is hurt, Mr. Parlow.” Mr. Parlow made a clucking noise in his throat when he saw the blood. “Guess you’re right, Car’lyn May,” he admitted. “Call Mandy. She must see this.” Miss Amanda’s attention had already been attracted to the strange arrival. She ran out and helped her father raise the injured man from the sled. Together they led him into the cottage. He was not at all a bad-looking man, although his clothing was rough and coarse. His hands were big and square, with blunt fingers, and the fingers were half-crooked, or half-closed, all the time. Afterwards Carolyn May learned this was because the old man was a sailor and had pulled on ropes so many years. The trained nurse and her father helped the man to the couch, after removing his pilot coat. Miss Amanda brought warm water and bathed the wound, removing the congealed blood from his face and neck. “I think there should be a stitch or two taken in this,” she said, “but Dr. Nugent is a long way off. I can dress it all right and bind it up. But if it was sewed, the wound would not leave so bad a scar.” “That’s no matter—no matter at all, matey,” the man hastened to say. “I’ve no money for them doctors.” “Ha!” coughed Mr. Parlow. “It’s not a matter of dollars—Well, Mandy, if you think you can fix him up all right——”