But the tutor was not the kind of man to trouble himself about difficulties of that sort, provided only he could find the doctor in, and transport him in a reasonable time to Maxfield.
As he passed the stables, he glanced within, on the off-chance of finding a horse available.

But the place was empty, and not even a stable-boy could be made to hear his summons.
So he tramped out into the road, where the snow lay a foot deep, and with long strides carved his way through it towards Yeld.

Half a mile on he overtook a country cart, heavily laden and stuck fast in the snow.
"Ah! Hodder," said he to the nonplussed old man in charge, "you may as well give it up." "So I are without your telling," growled the countryman.
"Very well; I want your horse for a couple of hours.

The Squire's ill, and I have to fetch the doctor." And without another word, and heedless of the ejaculations of the bewildered Hodder, he began to loose the animal's girths.
"I'm blamed if you have a hair of him," said the yokel.
"I don't want one.

Here!" and he pitched him a half-crown.