no ice could have seemed cool to him then;
water--water--was all he craved, and drank and drank until three or
four in the morning, when the fever would abate, and a sleep of total
exhaustion followed.

"If you run out of food take the canoe to Ellerton's," was the
brother's last word. Who was to take the canoe?

There was but half a Chicken now between them and starvation, and no
sign of Corney.

For three interminable weeks the deadly program dragged along. It went
on the same yet worse, as the sufferers grew weaker--a few days more
and the Boy also would be unable to leave his couch. Then what?

Despair was on the house and the silent cry of each was, "Oh, God! will
Corney never come?"

V

THE HOME OF THE BOY

On the day of that last Chicken, Thor was all morning carrying water
enough for the coming three fevers. The chill attacked him sooner than
it was due and his fever was worse than ever before.

He drank deeply and often from the bucket at his head. He had filled
it, and it was nearly emptied when about two in the morning the fever
left him and he fell asleep.

In the gray dawn he was awakened by a curious sound not far away--a
splashing of water. He turned his head to see two glaring eyes within a
foot of his face--a great Beast lapping the water in the bucket by his
bed.

Thor gazed in horror for a moment, then closed his eyes, sure that he
was dreaming, certain that this was a nightmare of India with a Tiger
by his couch; but the lapping continued. He looked up; yes, it still
was there. He tried to find his voice but uttered only a gurgle. The
great furry head quivered, a sniff came from below the shining
eyeballs, and the creature, whatever it was, dropped to its front feet
and went across the hut under the table. Thor was fully awake now; he
rose slowly on his elbow and feebly shouted "Sssh-hi," at which the
shining eyes reappeared under the table and the gray form came forth.
Calmly it walked across the ground and glided under the lowest log at a
place where an old potato pit left an opening and disappeared. What was
it? The sick boy hardly knew--some savage Beast of prey, undoubtedly.
He was totally unnerved. He shook with fear and a sense of
helplessness, and the night passed in fitful sleep and sudden starts
awake to search the gloom again for those fearful eyes and the great
gray gliding form. In the morning he did not know whether it were not
all a delirium, yet he made a feeble effort