to let any charitable organization send me back to her."

"In other words," exclaimed Patsy, indignantly, "she wanted to get rid
of you, and did not care what became of you."

"She was afraid I would cost her money," admitted the poor child, with
shamed, downcast eyes.

Patsy went to the window and stood looking out for a time. Myrtle
began to dress herself. As she said, she was not utterly helpless,
moving the upper part of her body freely and being able to walk slowly
about a room by holding on to chairs or other furniture.

"I'm afraid I'm causing you a lot of worry over me," said she, smiling
sadly as Patsy turned toward her; "and that is ungrateful when I
remember how kind you have all been. Why, these hours since I met you
have seemed like fairyland. I shall treasure them as long as I live.
There must be another train to Leadville soon, and I'll take that. As
soon as I am ready I will go to the depot and wait there."

Patsy looked at her reflectively. The poor child was called upon to
solve a queer problem--one which might well have bewildered the brain
of a more experienced person.

"Tell me," she said; "why should you go to Leadville at all, now that
you have no friend or relative there to care for you?"

"My ticket is to Leadville, you know," replied Myrtle. "If I did not
go I would waste the money it cost."