“We are going to take you home, Professor Dempsey,” Betty told him soothingly, as with Mollie’s help she half led, half carried, him through the woods toward the spot where they had left the boat, Amy and Grace following awed and silent behind them. “And as soon as your boys reach home we will bring them to you. Be careful of this big rock. Ah, here’s the boat.” And talking all the time, softly and soothingly as one would to a child, Betty at last succeeded in seating the derelict old man in the equally derelict old boat. The girls tumbled in after him, and with a prayer in her heart Betty pushed off from shore. That ride back across the river was as weird and unreal as any nightmare the girls had ever lived through. Their queer passenger, seeming the most unreal of all, was quiet for the most part but occasionally he would sit up and look about him wildly and could only be soothed back to reason by Betty’s sweet voice telling him of his boys! Jimmy and Arnold. Somehow they reached the opposite shore, and, after pulling the boat up among the bushes once more, they started back, the old man with them, to Wild Rose Lodge. CHAPTER XXV. THE OLD CROWD AGAIN Mrs. Irving, who had been worried by their prolonged absence, met the girls at the door as they stumbled with the almost exhausted old man up the steps of the porch. At sight of the latter she grew deathly pale, and leaned against the door for support. She felt that all the world was growing black!! “Oh, please, please don’t faint!” she heard Betty’s young voice calling to her desperately as it seemed from a long distance. “We’ve depended upon you to help us.” With a great effort she fought off the dizziness and drew herself away from Betty’s supporting arm. “It’s all right,” she said dazedly, “The shock, I guess. Betty what! who! is that!!” “Oh, please don’t ask any questions now,” Betty begged feverishly. “Just help us, and we will tell you all about it later. This is Professor Dempsey,” she added, turning to the broken old man who stood staring at them uncomprehendingly. “He can have Mollie’s and my room, can’t he, Mrs. Irving? and we will bunk somewhere else.” Mrs. Irving nodded automatically, still too dazed by the suddenness of the thing even to think, and they helped the old man into Betty’s room and laid him on the bed. The tired, ragged, unkempt old head had hardly touched the pillow before its owner had sunk into a heavy sleep. For a moment the girls were startled, for it almost seemed as though he were dead, but Betty put her hand on the ragged old shirt above the heart and found that the action was strong and regular. “Perhaps it is the very best thing that could happen to him,” she said softly, and, laying a light cover over him, tip-toed from the room, followed quietly by Mrs. Irving and the other girls.