“Get some paper, Zeke, in the top bureau drawer. There's a pencil on the bureau.” He obeyed, and she gave him an address which he wrote down. “Now this: 'Please treat me for fever and sore throat. Jewel.'” Zeke wrote the message and tucked it into a pocket. “Now please get my leather bag in the drawer,” said the child, “and take out money enough.” The young fellow hesitated. “If you haven't got plenty of money”--he began. “I have. You'll see. Oh, Zeke, you've made me so happy!” The coachman's clumsy hands fumbled with the clasp of the little bag. “I can do it,” said Jewel, and he brought it to her and watched her while she took out the money and gave it to him. He took a coin, returned the rest to the bag, and snapped it. “Say, little girl,” he said uneasily, “you look to me like a doctor'd do you a whole lot o' good.” Jewel gazed at him in patient wonder. “Who made the doctor?” she asked. Zeke stood on one foot and then on the other. “God did, and you know it, Zeke. He's the one to go to in trouble.” “But you're going to that Chicago woman,” objected Zeke. “Yes, because she'll go to God for me. I'm being held down by something that pretends to have power, and though I know it's an old cheat, I haven't understanding enough to get rid of it as quickly as she will. You see, I wouldn't have been taken sick if I hadn't believed in a lie instead of denying it. We have to watch our thoughts every minute, and I tell you, Zeke, sometimes it seems real hard work.” “Should say so,” returned 'Zekiel. “The less you think the better, I should suppose, if that's the case. I've got to be going now.” “And you'll send the telegram _surely_, and you won't speak of it to any one?” “Mum's the word, and I'll send it if it's the last act; but don't put all your eggs in one basket, little kid. I know Dr. Ballard's been here, and now you do everything he said, like a good girl, and between the two of 'em they ought to fix you up. I'd pin more faith to a doctor in the hand than to one in the bush a thousand miles away, if 't was _me_.” Jewel smiled on him from heavy eyes. “Did you ever hear of God's needing any help?” she asked. “I'll never forget your being so kind to me, never, Zeke; and when error melts away I'm coming out to the stable with grandpa. He said I should. Good-by.” As soon as the plum-colored livery had disappeared Jewel drew herself up, took the water pitcher between her hot little hands, and drank long and deeply. Then with a sigh of satisfaction she turned over in bed and drew Anna Belle close to her. “Just see, dearie,” she murmured, “how we are always taken care of!” Mrs. Evringham saw Dr. Ballard's buggy drive away and lost no time in discovering who had needed his services. “It's the child,” she announced, returning to Eloise's room. “Poor little thing,” returned the girl, rising.