aunt and the people at the ranch. You can't do
any good, and I'll go clean crazy if you expose yourself to this. Oh,
Banty, get out of this, get out of this, or, I tell you, _honest_, I'll
lick you if you don't."

Banty was no coward, but Con looked terrifyingly fierce and in dead
earnest, and the boy's common sense told him that he could far better
serve these stricken shackmen in doing as he was bidden. So after
more explanations and instructions, he mounted and rode away like one
possessed, Con's last words ringing in his ears: "Don't forget _barrels_
of tar soap, and _tons_ of tea. I haven't had a drink of tea for ten
days."

Late that night a young doctor rode up from Kamloops, and in his wake
a professional nurse with supplies of food, medicines, and exquisitely
fresh, clean sheets. While the physician bent over the sick man, Con
seized a package of groceries and in five minutes was drinking a cup of
his beloved English tea, as calmly as if he had been nursing a friend
with a headache.

Presently the doctor beckoned him outside. Con put down his cup
regretfully and followed.

"Young man," said the doctor, eyeing him curiously, "Do you know who
this man is you've been nursing, exposing yourself to death for?"

"Haven't an idea; I call him 'Snooks,'" said Con.

"Much better call him 'Crooks,'" said the doctor, angrily. "You've been
risking your life and that pretty pink English skin of yours for one of
the most worthless men in British Columbia; he's been a cattle rustler,
a 'salter' of gold mines, and everything that is discreditable; it makes
me indignant. He tells me he at least had the decency to warn you, when
you came here. What ever made you come on--in?"

Con stared at the doctor, a cold, a "stony British" stare. "Why,
doctor," he said, "because Snooks has been a--a--failure, I don't see
that's any reason why I should be a cad."

The doctor looked at him hard. "I wish I had a son like you," he
remarked.

"My father is an army surgeon; he's been through the cholera scourge in
India twice. I never could have looked him in the face again if I hadn't
seen Snooks through," said Con, simply.

"Well, you can look him in the face now all right, boy!" the doctor
replied, gravely. "Say good-bye to your sick friend, for we've brought a
tent and you are to be soaked in disinfectants and put into quarantine.
No more of this pest-shack for you, my boy."

So Con went back to shake hands with "Snooks," who sai