son doesn't live to share with him. The difference of a figure or
two in the description of a piece of land might be revised on the books,
if one had the influence."

The doctor for whom Governor Boyle had sent arrived on the afternoon
train from Cheyenne and reached the camp before sunset. He spoke in the
highest terms of the manner in which Dr. Slavens had proceeded, and
declared that it would be presumptuous meddling for him, or anyone else,
to attempt to advise in the case.

Agnes heard his commendation with triumph in her eyes, and Mrs. Boyle
gave Dr. Slavens her blessing in a tearful look. The doctor from
Cheyenne took up his instrument-case and held out his hand with a great
deal more respect in his bearing toward the unknown practitioner than he
had shown upon his arrival.

"On vacation here?" he asked, puzzled to find any other excuse for so
much ability running wild among the rocks in that bleak place.

"Something like that," answered Slavens noncommittally.

"When you're passing through Cheyenne, stop off and see me," giving
Slavens a respectful farewell.

Dr. Slavens advanced several points in the appraisement of Governor
Boyle, although, to do the Governor justice, he had seen from the
beginning that the wandering physician was a master. Boyle had been
weighing men for what they were worth, buying them and selling them, for
too many years to place a wrong bet. He told Slavens that unlimited
capital was back of him in his fight for Jerry's life, and that he had
but to demand it if anything was wanted, no matter what the cost.

Dr. Slavens told him bluntly that his son was in a fix where one man's
money would go as far as another's to get him clear, and that it had
very little weight in the other end of the scales against the thing they
were standing in front of, face to face.

"Save him to me, Doctor! For God's sake save him!" begged the old man,
his face bloodless, the weight of his unshored years collapsing upon him
and bowing him pitifully.

Again Slavens felt the wonder of this man's softness for his son, but
pity was tinctured with the thought that if it had been applied in
season to shaping the young man's life, and his conscience, and his
sense of justice, it might have commanded more respect. But he knew that
this was the opportunity to make the one big chance which the years had
been keeping from him. At the start Slavens had told the old man that
his son had a chance for life; he had not