"Yep, I'm eatin' up-town now," answered Jim. "Better have a cup o' tea," she said as Jimmie closed the door. He had lived that day on three dry buns and a drop cookie, and tea, warm tea, sounded good to him. He pulled off his cap and jammed it into his coat pocket as he sat down at the table. "Jim, I was yer friend when yer was in trouble, now I want yer to help me. Bill's been gone all day and I'm scart fer him. Dr. Snyder told me that the next time he had a "spell" he'd die. No better man ever lived than Bill Cook, and I've been thinkin' ter-day 'at somethin's got ter be did. Last night he cried out in his sleep, jus' like he did las' time he had 'em, and at three o'clock this morning he got up an' left the house. I ain't seen nothin' of him since; the younguns think he's workin', and I don't want 'em ter know no different. Bill loves his younguns, and they think there's no one like their Pa. There never was a kinder man than Bill Cook; no siree, not a kinder man nowheres. He's been gittin' worser an' worser since yer Pa's funeral, an' honest, Jim, I'm scart." "Well," said Jimmie, as he finished his third cup of tea, "I know jus' what he needs, but you'll have ter help." "I'll do anyting yer say, Jim," said Mrs. Cook. "Say, 'Hope ter die,' and cross yer heart," said Jimmie. "I'll do it, yer bet." "All right," said Jimmie. "Der first thing I want yer ter do is ter go ter der Mission wid me ter-night." "Me? I can't go, Jim; I ain't got no clothes ter go there; 'sides, it's Bill yer want ter help an' not me," she said. "Yer promised me," said Jimmie, "an' yer mustn't ast no questions. Yer get yer duds on an' I'll be back fer yer in five minutes." Jimmie went over to Dave's barn, told him what was on and Dave promised to get Bill into the house while they were gone. Mrs. Cook took the children over to Hardy's to play while she made a "call." When Jimmie returned to the house for Mrs. Cook, she was all ready to go. "Gee, where yer git der lid?" said Jimmie. "Never you mind, sonny; that hat's some more of yer business." As Jimmie stood and looked her over, he almost wished he had not suggested the trip. Her hat was an old straw derby with two chicken feathers stuck in it. She had put an old wine-colored skirt over her blue wrapper. "I'm ready," she said, "but yer mustn't sit up front." "Yer needn't worry," answered Jimmie as he looked once more at her hat. She was very nervous at first; but after she discovered that no one was looking at her she soon felt at ease. The singing seemed to carry her out of herself. She forgot her trouble and settled down into the chair to enjoy the very best hour she had had in years. "It's better 'n a opery," she whispered to Jimmie.