"Why, of course," replied the doctor. "I remember now you did say lastyear that you wanted to be a nurse when you grew older. Isn't itfortunate," he continued, "that I can help you because I am aphysician. We will certainly give you lots of chances to become a goodnurse and in the meantime you can learn much as 'Mary Lee, our RedCross Girl.'"

  "Why, that's fine," said Aunt Madge enthusiastically, while the boysclapped their hands, and Mr. and Mrs. Quinn both smiled proudly.

  "And," added Aunt Madge, "what Mary Lee has learned in the way offirst aid to the injured as a Campfire Girl, will help her materiallyto be a good and capable Red Cross Girl."

  Mary Lee just beamed. She was too happy to speak but her looksexpressed her feelings.

  A very quiet though determined voice now spoke up.

  "I'm going to be a farmer boy, and when I grow up I'm going to be afarmer-man, just like father." It was Eddie, the younger of the twoboys.

  "Why, of course," agreed the doctor, after the laugh was over, andlooking at Mr. Quinn, who was smiling with great pride. "And I hopeyou will make as good a farmer as your father, Eddie. And, Tom, whatare you going to be when you grow up?"

  Tom spoke bashfully but yet none the less decisively.

  "I'm going to be a real sailor and go all over the world."

  "That's splendid, Tom," said Aunt Madge.

  "Yes, Tom," added the doctor. "There are a lot of sailors-to-be untilthey reach the age of ten, so you won't be lonely."

  The merry supper party was now over. Aunt Madge insisted upon helpingto clear the table and to dry the dishes. While the three were busilyat work, Dr. Anderson and Mr. Quinn went out on the porch, to smoke.

  For a few moments the men puffed away in silence. Then Mr. Quinnresumed the subject they had been discussing before supper.

  "You say you are having an investigation made, doctor?"

  "Yes, Mr. Quinn. Mr. Cameron left instructions to do so before he wentto Europe. Some day we may know who Mary Lee's parents were. I feelsure of that."

  "I hope so," answered the older man. "She has done so much for otherfolks, I hope we shall be able to do something worth while for her."

  Mr. Quinn continued after a pause.

  "Do you know, Dr. Anderson, the child has absolute faith that some dayshe and her relations, those that are still alive, will be reunited?"

  "If that's the case, I think it would not be wise to let Mary Lee knowanything of the search that is being made because something might turnup to shatter her hopes."

  Mr. Quinn nodded understandingly.

  A few minutes later, the ladies came out on the porch. The boys hadalready gone to their room as was their usual custom.

  "Are we all ready for our ride?" the doctor asked.

  Aunt Madge nodded. They invited Mr. Quinn to join them, but he hadsome last duties to perform and he wanted to retire early. So he badethe guests good-night.

  The next minute the machine was gliding down the road.

  CHAPTER IV

  FIRST AID

  High above, the sun beat down relentlessly. Not a breath of airstirred. There was the sleepy droning of the everlasting insects, thenumber of which seemed always magnified at such a time. There had beenno rain for many a day. The dust was thick along the roads. Now andthen a passing automobile left an instant's breeze to be more thanpaid for in the swirl of dust.

  A solitary figure was scuffling along wearily. A casual glance markedhim as a knight of the road, a tramp. But if you had stopped toobserve a little more closely, you would have noted that he was not ofthat type, unkempt and bedraggled though he appeared.

  He had stopped at the last house on the road and then, after no littlehesitation, had asked for a drink of water. He had rested for a fewminutes--then he had gone on. The people in the house had noticed hisobvious weariness and had asked him if he did not wish to rest. Butthe evident and simple kindness of the woman, who was Mrs. Quinn, hadseemingly embarrassed the man.

  "Thank you kindly, ma'am," he had replied huskily, "but I must be onmy way."

  And so he had trudged wearily on. Every move on this hot, breezelessday was an ache, as if he were stepping on live and tender nerves. Hehad been able to make but one half mile in an hour. Then nature coulddo no more--and with a sigh, he had fallen to the ground. The heat hadproved his master.

  Along the road from the village which was two miles from the housewhere he had stopped, came Mary Lee. For her the heat had no terrors.There was beauty in this day, hot and merciless though it had seemedbut a little while before. And, as you traveled with her, you alsopartook of the joy she received from Nature, because, whatever itsguise, it was Nature nevertheless.

  MARY LEE CAME TRIPPING DOWN THE ROAD]

  It was months since Dr. Anderson and Aunt Madge had visited her.Letty and Ruth had come almost every other week after that firstspring visit. She had seen Bob, too, almost the day after he hadarrived from abroad. With him had come his mother and his father. Ithad been a wonderful summer for Mary Lee.

  How her heart rejoiced at the sight of Bob, who had gotten out of theauto a little way down the road so that Mary Lee, who had been hisplaymate and friend, could see him walk up the road, no longercrippled but like other boys. Bob had stayed over for a few days. Mr.and Mrs. Cameron had been greatly pleased with Mary Lee. They weresurprised at the way she had grown and admired the tanned cheeks andthe clear eyes.

  Bobbie was to come out again at the end of July and a few days laterRuth and Edith and Letty were to come. And while all of them were atthe farm, Aunt Madge and Dr. Anderson would drive out.

  As Mary Lee came tripping down the road, some of the joy in her wasfor the days to come. She was not only thinking of the coming of herfriends but also of September when she would join these friends inthe city and be as one of them. A spirit of gratefulness mingled withher other emotions as she thought of the rapid changes that had takenplace in the short time she had been out of the orphanage.

  "Some day," she said very softly, "I am going to make my friends veryproud that they are my friends." It never occurred to this simple,lovely little girl, that she had already given them cause for theirpride in the mutual friendship.

  "When Bob and the girls come we can visit the Sanitarium. If we canonly get Dr. Anderson to go with us he can explain things to us and inthat way we can learn so much more. Then, too, we can have realcampfires and meetings and Bobbie can visit us as a Boy Scout."

  So her mind planned it all, as she hastened along. There was no needfor hurrying, but it was never in the nature of this girl to moveslowly. But often she stopped along the road for there were manythings that drew her interest.

  "You poor things," she said to some dry and withered looking fernsalong the way. "I shall practice being a real Red Cross Girl withyou." She hurried into the woods somewhat farther down the road andfrom a brooklet brought some water with which to give the ferns newlife.

  This act set her to dreaming of her future when she would be a RedCross Nurse and of Dr. Anderson who was to give her the opportunity togain the necessary experience. It was great work to relieve and curethe sick.

  Then across her line of vision came a blurred form which she could notmake out. She hurried forward. As she neared it she saw the body of aman lying prone upon the ground.

  For one moment there was a scared, helpless feeling within the girl.There was a great sinking in her heart. She seemed very small, veryhelpless. Then from somewhere within her a small voice whispered:

  "Mary Lee, you are a Red Cross Girl."

  CHAPTER V

  MARY LEE WRITES A LETTER

  Mary Lee could never remember how she managed to place the unconsciousform of the man against the tree so that the branches would affordsome shade and protection from the sun's merciless heat.

  From the gate at which she was standing and from where she wassearching the road for Mary Lee's return, Mrs. Quinn saw the girlrunning. She noticed her excitement and so hurried forward to meether.

  "What is it,
dear? What has happened?" she questioned anxiously.

  Mary Lee told her. From the account, Mrs. Quinn judged that the manhad had an attack of sunstroke. She calmed the excited girl andimmediately went about obtaining the necessary ice to use on thestricken man.

  The girl found good use for a first aid book which had been presentedto her at one of the Campfire meetings. From it she learned thatmustard on the nape of the neck or the forehead would help to bring aperson back to consciousness. She immediately went into the kitchenand procured some.

  Mr. Quinn was not about and so the two, Mrs. Quinn with the ice andMary Lee with the mustard, hurried to the unconscious man, firstsending Tom after Mr. Quinn to bring the carriage to them.

  They found him still unconscious. Mary Lee applied the ice and thenput a plentiful supply of the mustard upon the nape of the man's neck.Then both watched anxiously for signs of a return to consciousness. Itseemed hours before there was a flicker of returning life; as a matterof fact, it was less than ten minutes. When Mr. Quinn arrived with thecarriage the man had regained consciousness, but he was obviouslyquite weak.

  "I think we had better take him to the Sanitarium," said Mary Lee,"they will know what to do there."

  Mrs. Quinn agreed. She returned home, her husband driving toward theSanitarium, Mary Lee on the rear seat holding the man's head andapplying the ice. The drive was over two miles and during almost allof that time, the sick man was either too weak to speak or lacked theinclination to do so.

  As they turned into the driveway which led to the hospital, he spokein a low, weak voice: "I'm sorry to give you all this trouble, younglady. It is a misfortune for me as well as for all of you." Then hepaused for a second either through weakness or as if debatingsomething in his mind.

  "I wonder if I can impose on your goodness a little more?" he asked asthe carriage stopped at the entrance and Mr. Quinn went inside tospeak to the proper authorities. "Could you come and see me in themorning? I must have something attended to tomorrow and I suppose," hecontinued wanly and with the ghost of a smile, "I shall have to stayhere at least that long."

  "I shall be glad to come," answered Mary Lee. "Please do not worry. Iam sure that it will be but a day or two before you are up and aboutagain."

  An interne and two orderlies now came out of the hospital door with astretcher. They carried the sick man into the emergency ward but wouldnot allow either Mr. Quinn or Mary Lee to follow. They were told thatthey would probably be allowed to visit in the morning.

  But the man's case was evidently quite serious. Mary Lee called thenext day and was informed that the patient had a high temperature andthat it was impossible to permit any visitors. She was not allowed tosee him until the fourth day. It worried her because of her promiseand the man's evident anxiety to have the "something" attended to atonce. On the fourth day, she was informed that the man was still weakbut had insisted on seeing her. The nurse who spoke to her warned hernot to stay too long.

  Even as she opened the door she felt the surcharged eagerness of theman. He wasted no time in any greetings.

  "The doctor tells me I cannot hope to leave here for at least anotherweek. He claims it is under-nourishment more than the heat." He resteda moment.

  "My name is Tom Marshall," he continued slowly. "I was on my way homefrom Mexico where I have been for many years. About two months ago, Iremember the day so well, the home of my mother and father and of myearly youth seemed to be calling to me in a way I could not resist. Ihad been away from it for over fifteen years and not once before thattime had I been homesick or felt the desire to go home. But the newfeeling was such that a little boy feels--I wanted my mother more thananything else in the world.

  "My partner and I have a mine down there. We think it is a silvermine, but so far it has been hard to pinch anything out of it and wehave found it a difficult matter even to exist. My partner is anIndian but he would shame many white men. I have never known asquarer, whiter man. He found the mine. We both feel it is certain tomake good some day.

  "Enough of that, except to say that I went to him and told him how Ifelt. He insisted that I make the trip home. Together, we scraped upenough money to bring me back about half the distance. I wrote home,the first letter I had written, I am ashamed to say, in four years. Itold mother that I was coming home and to write me to St. Louis careof the General Delivery."

  The man paused again. He was watching the girl. He seemed to regainstrength.

  "I suppose you wonder why I tell you all this. You will soon see. AtSt. Louis a letter was waiting for me. It was from my cousin, not frommy mother. I learned that father had died three years ago and that mymother was very sick. She had been overjoyed at the news that I wascoming. But my cousin advised me to hasten my return, as he consideredmy mother's condition extremely serious.

  "I got as far as this by freight train, my money having given out atSt. Louis. The headway was slow and yet I could not stop to earn themoney to travel any other way. I have had very little food, how littleI had I never stopped to consider. My one desire has been to gethome."

  THE SICK MAN DICTATES A LETTER]

  "You see," the man continued in an eager way, "it seems that all thedesire to see mother that I should have had all these years is crowdedinto the present. I had figured on cutting through to the river andstowing myself in one of the boats which would bring me nearer home;but the heat and the lack of food were too much for me, and here Iam."

  The man paused once more. Mary Lee wondered if she were not stayingtoo long; if the man were not going past his strength. Yet he seemedanxious to complete what he had to say.

  "I have prayed that my mother live till I reach home. I want her toknow that I am delayed. Will you please write my cousin? Tell him thatI am very near and that I shall soon be well enough, but that he mustnot tell mother about my illness, just that I am surely coming. Hemust also let me know at once how she is.

  "You see, young lady, I cannot write myself just now, as the doctorsthink I am still too weak. I wanted this letter written four days ago.I am sure you will write understandingly. Will you do it for me?"

  "I shall be very glad to," answered Mary Lee. "I am going to ask yourcousin to telegraph regarding your mother's condition."

  The man nodded as if too spent to talk further. He handed Mary Lee acrumpled slip of paper on which was written the address for theletter.

  CHAPTER VI

  A PICNIC

  Ten days later found Tom Marshall home. The telegram had come from hiscousin stating that the condition of his mother was unchanged. MaryLee had told the Quinns of the case and Mr. Quinn had paid a visit tothe sick man. He had talked to him for a little while and convinced asto the truth of the man's story, had offered to lend him the moneywhich would take him home.

  Marshall had returned the money with a letter of thanks immediatelyupon his arrival home.

  Now the end of July had come. Letty and Ruth and Bob all came from thecity on the same train. There was a delightful meeting at the towndepot, and much happy, excited chattering on the part of the girls. Onthe way home, Mary Lee said:

  "I have planned a picnic lunch for this afternoon. I know a lovelyspot and then we can take a long walk afterwards."

  "I'll tell you what," said Bob. "If we could get some steak or chops Iwould give you the best eating you ever had. Father showed me howcampers cook."

  That sounded exciting to the girls. It meant, of course, stopping offat the village general store which in itself was a novelty. Mary Leetelephoned Mrs. Quinn and obtained permission to make the purchases.But Bob insisted that the buying of the chops was his part of theparty and insisted so strongly that he won his point.

  They drove home and when they passed the spot where Mary Lee haddiscovered the unconscious Tom Marshall she showed the place to herfriends and told them the story.

  "My, but you were brave, Mary Lee," said Letty admiringly. "I wouldhave been so frightened I would have fainted."

  The guests helped in the preparation for t
he picnic as did Tom andEddie who had also been invited so that Bob wouldn't feel it was agirls' affair. Besides, Mary Lee knew how much they would like it. Itwas after midday before they started on the picnic, and more than ahalf hour later before they reached their destination. It was truly apleasant spot. A brook was running nearby and the trees grew soclosely together that they formed a regular bower. The girls were sodelighted that they immediately decided to use the place for allfuture meetings and named it Campfire Nook. In the meantime Bob andEddie were hunting for a large flat rock on which to fry the chops,while Tom gathered wood.

  "Did you girls bring any matches?" suddenly asked Ruth.

  Letty looked at Mary Lee, who in turn looked blank.

  "Of course, we need matches for a fire," added Letty. "I'll warrantyou Bob forgot all about them too."

  It struck the girls as a great joke, even though they were beginningto be hungry. They decided that they would not say anything to Bobuntil he had everything ready and realized for himself that there wereno matches with which to start the fire.

  BOB MAKES HIMSELF USEFUL AT THE PICNIC]

  When Eddie and Bob returned the girls said nothing about forgettingthe matches, but waited to see the fun.

  But Bob fooled them. He brought forth some matches from his pocket andlighted the fire in the approved way.

  "Did you have them all the time?" asked Letty, somewhat crestfallen.

  "Why, of course," answered Bob as if he could never forget soimportant a thing, when, as a matter of fact, he had only recalledthat he would need matches at the last moment.