man saved your child's life at very considerable danger to his own. And
a second time--if the child recovers he has saved his life, for had the
operation not been performed today your child would have died, and you
would have been arrested for manslaughter."

"Doctor," said Carroll, turning upon him, and standing nervous and
shaking, "it is that man or me. The country won't hold us both."

"Then, Carroll, let me tell you, you had better move out, for that man
won't move till he wants to. Why, bless my soul, man, he could grind
you up in his hands. And as for nerve--well, I have seen some in my
professional career, but never such as his. My advice to you is, do not
trifle with him."

"Blank his sowl! I'll be even wid him," said Carroll, pouring out a
stream of oaths.

"Dad." The weak voice seemed to pierce through Carroll's curses like a
shaft of light through a dark room.

Carroll dropped on his knees by the bedside in a rush of tears.

"Ah, Patsy, my Patsy! Is it your own voice I'm hearin'?"

"Dad, darlin', ye didn't mane it, did ye, dad?"

"What, Patsy?"

"To hit me."

"Ah, may God forgive me! but it's meself would sooner die than strike
ye."

The little lad drew a deep breath of content.

"And the big man," he said. "He put out his hand over me. Ye didn't
hurt him, dad, did ye?"

"No, no, Patsy, darlin'," said the big Irishman, burying his face in
the pillow. "Speak to your dad again wid your lovely voice."

"Now, Carroll," said the doctor in a stern whisper. "That is enough.
Not a word more. Do you want to kill your child?"

Carroll at once with a tremendous effort grew still, stroking the white
hand he held in his, and kissing the golden curls that streamed across
the pillow, whispering over and over, "Patsy, darlin'!" till the
doctor, hardened as he was to scenes like this, was forced to steal out
from the room and leave them together.

XIV

THE OLD PROSPECTOR'S AWAKING

For six weeks the Old Prospector lay fretting his life away in his
shack, not so ill as to be in danger. The pneumonia had almost
disappeared and the rheumatism had subsided, but yet such grave
symptoms remained as made the doctor forbid his setting forth upon his
annual quest of the Lost River. In these days his chief comfort was
Shock, whose old habit of sharing his experiences in imagination with
those who could not share them in reality, relieved for the Old
Prospector many a monotonous hour.

But Shock's day