They would not call a doctor, as Eva had begged them--no, indeed! Physics couldn’t help him how, and his bedridden life was a weariness even to himself. Let him slip away as soon as nature willed to death. That was what they frankly said to each other without pretense, for his will was made, and he had struck oil, so they had no further use for him. Just as long as he lived they must vegetate here at Stony Ledge, for he had sternly refused to move to Clarksburg when they struck oil. “I was born at Stony Ledge, and, please Heaven, I’ll die here!” he answered to all their entreaties, and they knew they must abide by his decision. They could not remove him by force. In their angry disappointment they wished him dead, and did not want a doctor to hinder him even an hour from his haste to the grave. Terribly frightened lest he should recover sense enough to send for some one to change his will, giving Eva a part of his good fortune, they locked him in as they had done little Eva, and left him there till morning. At length Eva’s wild shrieks died away from sheer exhaustion, and by and by the old man sank into deep, hard-breathed slumber, loud enough to disturb the chore boy in his room downstairs. It was near daylight, anyhow, so he ventured to rouse the spinster with a rap on her door. “I b’lieve the old man’s dyin’. I kin hear him breathin’ hard all over the house!” he said. “Nonsense--only snoring,” she answered testily, but she dressed and aroused the girls. “He’s goin’ at last,” she said unfeelingly, as she unlocked the door, and they filed in, shivering with the chill of the early morning air. Gran’ther trying to get out of bed in his delirium had tumbled face downward on the floor, and lay there half-stifled, purple and breathing heavily. They had to call Nick to help them put him back under the covers, and he was cold as death already. “Not a word of this to any one,” they cautioned the boy. “Folks are so fault-finding, they might say we neglected him, when the truth is we are all worn out nursing him.” “I’ll fetch the doctor if you want me,” Nick said, with a feeling glance at the pitiful figure on the bed. “’Tain’t no use--not a mite! He’s too fur gone for a doctor. You go an’ start up the kitchen fire, and do up your chores soon’s possible. You hear?” Nick went down, and they stood around watching the dying man, who breathed a little more freely now, and suddenly opened his deeply sunken, fading blue eyes, and glanced at them in turn with a weak inquiry that solved itself into the one word: “Eva!” Patty frowned and answered: “Gran’ther, Eva ain’t here, you know. You sent her away.” He faltered weakly: “But she came back last night.” “Oh, no!” each of the three exclaimed innocently, all together. In vain he cried piteously that while they were all gone last night little Eva had come back and stayed with him.