und. I made the local weekly paper my
headquarters, and the editor was very obliging. He let me read all his
news letters from his local correspondent at every crossroads. I waded
through accounts of new calves and colts, new fences and barns, who
"Sundayed" with his brother, etc., and soon had a list of all the
cases in that part of the country. It was not a long one, but it
was scattered. After I had traced them out, following Kennedy's
instructions, they showed nothing, except that they were unrelated to
the epidemic at the hall.

Meanwhile, Kennedy was very busy there. He had a microscope and slides
and test-tubes and chemicals for testing things, and I don't know what
all, for there was not time to initiate me into all the mysteries. He
tested the water from the various driven wells and in the water-tank,
and the milk from the cows;--he tried to find out what food had come
in from outside, though there was practically none, for the hall was
self-supporting. There was no stone he left unturned.

When I rejoined him that night he was clearly perplexed. I don't think
my report decreased his perplexity, either.

"There is only one thing left as far as I have been able to discover
after one day's work," he said, after we had gone over our activities
for the day. "Jim Bisbee never drank the water from his own wells. He
always drank a bottled water shipped down from a camp of his in New York
State, where he had a remarkable mountain spring. I tested a number of
the full bottles at the hall, but they were perfectly pure. There wasn't
a trace of the bacillus typhosus in any of them. Then it occurred to me
that, after all, that was not the thing to do. I should test the empty
ones. But there weren't any empty ones. They told me they had all been
taken down to the freight station yesterday to be shipped back to the
camp. I hope they haven't gone yet. Let's drive around and see if they
are there."

The freight-master was just leaving, but when he learned we were from
the hall he consented to let us examine the bottles. They were corked
and in wooden cases, which protected them perfectly. By the light of the
station lamps and the aid of a pocket-lens, Kennedy examined them on the
outside and satisfied himself that after being replaced in the wooden
cases the bottles themselves had not been handled.

"Will you let me borrow some of these bottles to-night" he asked
the agent. "I'll give you my word that they will be returned