Going back to his untidy, noisy home, he entered the house, and standing by his son's bedside gazed curiously at him. The boy was evidently growing worse each minute, as even the unpractised eye of the miner could see. He was tossing in a high fever, calling constantly for the water which in her ignorance his mother would not give him, nor did he appear to recognize any of those who stood near. "I fear me his time's come," said one of the neighbor women, several of whom, attracted by curiosity, came and went in and out of the house. Although the remark was not intended for his ears, Monk Tooley heard it, and apparently it brought him to a sudden determination. Without a word he left the house and walked directly to that of the Sterlings. Entering the open door-way without the ceremony of knocking, which was little practised in that colliery village, he found the family gathered in their tiny sitting-room, Derrick poring intently over a plan of the old workings of the mine, Helen reading, and their mother sewing. Bowing awkwardly to Mrs. Sterling, he said, "Derrick tells me, missus, dat you're willin' to take my poor lad in and nuss him a bit. His own mither has no knowledge of de trade, an' he's just dyin' over yon. If yer mean it, and will do fer him, yer'll never want for a man to lift a hand fer you and yours as long as Monk Tooley is widin call." "I do mean it, Mr. Tooley, and if you can only get him here, I'll gladly do what I can for him," said Mrs. Sterling. "I'll bring him, mum, I'll go fer him now;" and Monk Tooley, with another awkward pull at the brim of his hat, left the house. In five minutes he was back, accompanied by another miner, and between them they bore a mattress on which lay the sick boy. He was undressed, bathed, and placed in Derrick's cool, clean bed. Within an hour cooling drinks and outward applications had so reduced the fever and quieted him that he had fallen into a deep sleep. Within the same time all the village knew, and wondered over the knowledge, that Monk Tooley's sick lad was being cared for in the house of the widow Sterling. CHAPTER IX SOCRATES, THE WISE MINE RAT When Derrick and Paul found themselves descending the slope, together with a carful of miners, the next morning, it seemed to them a long time since they had traversed its black depths. So accustomed do the toilers of the colliery become to exciting incidents that elsewhere would furnish subject for weeks of thought and conversation, that often a single day suffices to divert their attention to something new. So it was with our two boys, in whose minds their recent adventures were already shorn of their terrors, and only thought of as something unpleasant, to be forgotten as quickly as possible. Therefore they did not speak of them as they talked together in low tones, but only of the present and the future. "I think it's awful good of you and your mother to take Bill Tooley into your own house and nurse him," said Paul.