" said the doctor instantly.

The cowpuncher was completely covered, except for his head and feet. On
the latter, oddly enough, were still his grimy boots, blackening the
white sheets on which they rested.

"I tried to work them off--you see the laces are untied," explained
Drew, "but the poor fellow recovered consciousness at once, and
struggled to get his feet free. He said that he wants to die with his
boots on."

"You tried his pulse and his temperature?" whispered the doctor.

"Yes. The temperature is not much above normal, the pulse is extremely
rapid and very faint. Is that a bad sign?"

"Very bad."

Drew winced and caught his breath so sharply that the others stared at
him. It might have been thought that he had just heard his own death
sentence pronounced.

He explained: "Ben has been with me a number of years. It breaks me up
to think of losing him like this."

The doctor took the pulse of Calamity with lightly touching fingers that
did not waken the sleeper; then he felt with equal caution the forehead
of Ben.

"Well?" asked Drew eagerly.

"The chances are about one out of ten."

It drew a groan from the rancher.

"But there is still some hope."

The doctor shook his head and carefully unwound the bandages. He
examined the wound with care, and then made a dressing, and recovered
the little purple spot, so small that a five-cent piece would have
covered it.

"Tell me!" demanded Drew, as Young turned at length.

"The bullet passed right through the body, eh?"

"Yes."

"He ought to have been dead hours ago. I can't understand it. But since
he's still alive we'll go on hoping."

"Hope?" whispered Drew.

It was as if he had received the promise of heaven, such brightness fell
across his haggard face.

"There's no use attempting to explain," answered Young. "An ordinary man
would have died almost instantly, but the lungs of some of these rangers
seem to be lined with leather. I suppose they are fairly embalmed with
excessive cigarette smoking. The constant work in the open air toughens
them wonderfully. As I said, the chances are about one out of ten, but
I'm only astonished that there is any chance at all."

"Doctor, I'll make you rich for this!"

"My dear sir, I've done nothing; it has been your instant care that
saved him--as far as he is saved. I'll tell you what to continue doing
for him; in half an hour I must leave."

Drew smiled faintly.

"Not till he's well or dead, doctor