But there was something in Dr. Harry
stronger than his common sense; something greater than his professional
skill. And so he must go on fighting until the very end.
It was nearly twilight when he reached the edge of the hill on the
farther side of the valley. He could see the lights of the town twinkling
against the dark mass of tree and hill and building, while on the
faintly-glowing sky the steeple of Memorial Church, the cupola of the old
Academy building, and the court-house tower were cut in black. Down into
the dusk of the valley the bay picked her way, and when they had gained
the hill on the edge of town it was dark. Now the tired horse quickened
her pace, for the home barn and Uncle George were not far away. But as
they drew near the big brown house of Judge Strong, she felt the first
touch of the reins and came to a walk, turning in to the familiar
hitching post with reluctance.
At that moment a tall figure left the Judge's gate to pass swiftly down
the street in the dusk.
Before the bay quite came to a stop at the post her master's hand turned
her head into the street again, and his familiar voice bade her, somewhat
sharply, to "go on!" In mild surprise she broke into a quick trot. How
was the good horse to know that her driver's impatience was all with
himself, and was caused by seeing his friend, the minister coming--as he
thought--from the Strong mansion? Or how was Dr. Harry to know that Dan
had only paused at the gate as if to enter, and had passed on when he saw
the physician turning in?
Farther down the street at the little white cottage near the monument,
the bay mare was pulled again to a walk, and this time she was permitted
to turn in to the curb and stop.
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