"Real nice man!" said Pippin. "Ain't it great meetin' up with folks like that? Now behooves me hasten just a mite, if I'm goin' to get to Kingdom before sundown! He said 'twas about a mile further. Hello! What's goin' on here?" Pippin was not to get to Kingdom before sundown. He stopped short. A man was lying beside the road, motionless, his feet in the ditch, his head on a tuft of grass: asleep, it seemed. An elderly man, gray and wizened, his face seamed with wrinkles of greed and cunning. Near him on the dusty grass lay a scissor-grinder's wheel. Pippin bent over him, looked, looked again, then knelt down in the dust. "It's Nipper Crewe!" he said. "He's--no, he isn't! Hi, there! Crewe! Hold up! What's the matter?" "Some kind of fit!" said Pippin. "There's no liquor in him. Here, Crewe, wake up!" He shook the man gently: the lids quivered, opened; the bleared eyes wandered, then fixed, and recognition crept into them. "Pippin!" he said faintly. "That's right! It's Pippin, all right. How you feelin', Nipper?" "What's the matter?" "Search me!" said Pippin cheerfully. "You appear to have had a fit, or something. You'll come out all right." "Where is it?" "Where's what? Your wheel? Right handy by; I expect it dropped when you did, but it looks to be all O.K. Took up grindin', eh? Good trade, is it?" A cunning look crept into the dim eyes. "Good enough. Gets you into the house, and then--" his breath failed; he lay back, gasping, in Pippin's arms. "Now wouldn't that give you a pain?" muttered Pippin. "Nipper," he said aloud, "you're feelin' bad, ain't you? Now here we be on a good road leadin' to a town only a mile off. There's three things to do: I can carry you a little ways at a time till we get to a house; or we can set right here and wait till somebody comes along; or I can lay you so you'll rest easy--as easy as you can--and go and fetch somebody. Now--" "Don't go!" It was only a whisper, but the groping fingers caught Pippin's sleeve and held it convulsively. "Go! Not likely, if you feel that way!" Pippin sat down cheerfully. "It's nice to sit down, anyway. Say we put your head on my knee--so! That's easier? Good enough! Why, we've been--not to say pals, Nipper, but we sat side by each for a matter of a year. It's not likely I'd leave you, is it?" The man shook his head feebly. "I ain't comin' out!" he whispered. "I'm goin'! I'm used up, Pip!" "Sho! What a way to talk!" Pippin glanced round him uneasily. "Somebody'll be comin' along in a minute, and we'll get you into the city, into a nice hospital--" The man shook his head feebly, but vehemently. "No you don't!" he said. "No more hospital in mine! They had me in one, and I shammed well till they let me out. No more of that for me! I'll die on the road."