No sooner had Rob assisted his mother down the steps than he turned to help others in lifting a pallid-faced woman, who was an invalid, from the car. Close behind her came a pale, frightened girl, who shrank near to Rob at sight of the wondering spectators. They were Mrs. Willet and Joey. While the poor invalid was carried to a settee at one side of the station, a woman, with cadaverous countenance and wild eyes, and a man who had to be lifted down from the car, reached the platform, the latter being borne to a second bench. Then an elderly woman, with a strange-looking peaked cap and squat figure, followed, while close behind her came a girl of fourteen and five boys, ranging in ages from ten to fifteen years. During this brief delay a small lot of baggage had been thrown upon the station floor, and as the last of the ill-favored passengers alighted, the conductor waved his hand, the bell rang, the engine puffed anew, the wheels began to revolve, and the train rolled away, leaving the little group of fifteen persons the center of observation for many pairs of eyes. “For gracious’ sake, what have you been doing, deacon?” asked ’Squire Hardy, a short, thickset individual, who had been among the first to reach the place. He was troubled with asthma, and the exertion in reaching the station had put him both out of breath and good humor. Though amazed at this most unexpected greeting, Deacon Cornhill soon recovered his surprise enough to say: “I have just brung home a leetle comp’ny, ’squire. I----” “Huh!” was the rejoinder, “Comp’ny? I should say comp’ny! Where’d you pick that ’sortment of folks?” “In the streets of New York,” replied the deacon. “Never see sich sights in my life, ’squire. Why, the ground is just running over with folks, and sin and wickedness is thicker’n the folks! I swan! it’s too bad; and so I persuaded these half-starved creeturs to come to Basinburg with me. I know you’ll lend a helping hand for ’em to have homes. Them empty houses’n deserted farms on the Hare road can be as well filled as not.” All the time he was speaking the crowd pressed nearer and nearer, causing the newcomers to huddle close together, with half-frightened looks on their faces. Though used to seeing mobs, and having lived in crowded streets, there was something about these spectators which sent a feeling of terror to their hearts. Rob was the only exception, and as an over-anxious, burly individual pushed his way close to the helpless man and woman, he stepped brusquely forward, exclaiming: “Stand back, sir! you’re crowding a sick man and woman. Seems to me there oughter be room out here for ’em.” The man retreated, muttering: “Be keerful how ye sass yer betters, ye insolent critter.” At this a murmur went over the crowd, which it was plain to see were generally unfriendly to the new arrivals. They did form a motley-looking party. “They look like furrin truck!” declared some one, whereupon a general nod of assent was given.