terfere between me and my patient, Mr. Reade,
I'll put you out of here and bar the door against you."

Tom, though angry at having been allowed to sleep for so long,
had the quick good sense to see that the big miner was quite right.

"All right, Tim Walsh," he sighed. "If you can take better care
of my chum than I can then you're the new boss here. I'll be good."

"First of all," ordered Walsh, "go over to the cook shack and
get some supper. Don't dare to come back inside of an hour, so
you'll have time to eat a real supper."

Tom departed obediently. Once out in the keen air he began to
understand how much good his day's sleep had done him. He was
alive and strong again. Taking in deep breaths, he tramped along
the path over to the shaft ere he turned his steps toward the
cook shack.

"Come right in, Mr. Reade, and eat something," urged Cook Leon.
"This is the first time I've seen you in days. You must be hungry."

"There's a fellow ten times smarter than I who's looking after
Hazelton," spoke Tom cheerily, "so I believe I am hungry. Yes;
you may set me out a good supper."

"Who's the very smart man that's looking after your friend?" Leon
asked.

"Tim Walsh."

"Why, he's nothing but a miner!"

"You're wrong there, Leon. Walsh has been a soldier, and a hospital
corps man at that. He knows more about nursing in a minute than
I do in a month. Oh, why didn't I hear about Walsh earlier?"

Leon soon had a steaming hot supper on the table. First of all,
Reade swallowed a cupful of coffee. Then he began his supper.

"I wonder if Ferrers can get back tonight?" Tom mused, after the
meal.

"He might, but a doctor couldn't get here tonight, unless he,
too, could move fast on skis," Leon replied.

"Anyway, I'm not as worried as I was," sighed Reade.

The door opened, and Alf Drew entered. That youngster rarely
came to the cook shack alone, but the lad learned that Tom Reade
was present.

"Sit down and keep quiet, if you're going to stay here," ordered
Cook Leon.

Alf went to the corner of the shack furthest from the other two.
Tom, watching covertly, saw Alf furtively draw out cigarette
and match.

Very softly Drew scratched a match. He was standing, his back
turned to the others, over a wood-box.

Click-ick-ick! sounded a warning note.

"Ow-ow-ow-ow!" howled Alf, jumping back, dropping both match and
cigarette.

"What's the matter, youngster?" demanded Tom placidly.

"There's a rattl