Mickey started on his day to Atwater with joyful anticipation, but he jumped from Douglas' car and ran up the Harding front walk at three o'clock, his face anxious. He saw the Harding car at the gate, and wondered at Peter sitting dressed for leisure on the veranda. "Got anxious about Lily," he explained. "Out on the lake I thought I heard her call me, then I had the notion she was crying for me. They laughed at me, but I couldn't stand it. Is she asleep, as they said she'd be?" Peter opened his lips, but no word came. Mickey slowly turned a ghastly white. Peter reached in his side pocket, drew out a letter, and handed it to the boy. Mickey pulled the sheet from the envelope, still staring at Peter, then glanced at what he held and collapsed on the step. Peter moved beside him, laid a steadying arm across his shoulders and proved his fear was as great as Mickey's by being unable to speak. At last the boy produced articulate words. "_He came?_" he marvelled. "About ten this morning," said Peter. "He took her to the hospital?" panted Mickey. "Yes," said Peter. "Why did you let him?" demanded Mickey. That helped Peter. He indicated the letter. "There's your call for him!" he said, emphatically. "You asked me to adopt her so I could give him orders to go ahead when he came." "Why didn't you telephone me?" asked Mickey. "I did," said Peter. "The woman who answered didn't know where you were, but she said their car had gone to town, so I thought maybe they'd find you there. I was just going to call them again." "Was she afraid?" wavered Mickey. "Yes, I think she was," said Peter. "Did she cry for me?" asked Mickey. "Yes she did," admitted Peter, who hadn't a social lie in his being, "but when he offered to put off the examination till he might come again, she climbed from the cot and made him take her. Ma went with her." "The Sunshine Nurse came?" questioned Mickey. "Yes," said Peter, "and Mrs. Minturn. She sent for him to see about an operation on a child she is trying to save, so when it was over, he showed her your letter. She brought them out in her car, and Ma went back with them." "She may be on that glass table right now," gulped Mickey. "What time is it? When's the next car? Run me to the station will you, and if you've got any money, let me have it 'til I get to mine." "Of course!" said Peter. "Will Junior and Mary be all right?" asked Mickey, pausing in his extremity to think of others. "Yes, they often stay while we go." "Hurry!" begged Mickey. Peter took hold of the gear and faced straight ahead. "She's oiled, the tank full, the engine purring like a kitten," he said. "Mickey, I always wanted to beat that trolley just once, to show it I _could_, if I wasn't loaded with women and children. Awful nice road----" "Go on!" said Mickey. Peter smiled, sliding across the starter. "Sit tight!" he said tersely.