bles,
in California was inconsistent with infinitesimal doses. In Concho's
previous illness the doctor had given him a dozen 4 grain quinine
powders.

The following day the grateful Mexican walked into the Doctor's
office--cured. The Doctor was gratified until, on examination, it
appeared that to save trouble, and because his memory was poor, Concho
had taken all the powders in one dose. The Doctor shrugged his shoulders
and--altered his practice.

"Well," said Dr. Guild, as Concho sank down exhaustedly in one of the
Doctor's two chairs, "what now? Have you been sleeping again in the tule
marshes, or are you upset with commissary whisky? Come, have it out."

But Concho declared that the devil was in his stomach, that Judas
Iscariot had possessed himself of his spine, that imps were in his
forehead, and that his feet had been scourged by Pontius Pilate.

"That means 'blue mass,'" said the Doctor. And gave it to him,--a bolus
as large as a musket ball, and as heavy.

Concho took it on the spot, and turned to go.

"I have no money, Senor Medico."

"Never mind. It's only a dollar, the price of the medicine."

Concho looked guilty at having gulped down so much cash. Then he said
timidly:

"I have no money, but I have got here what is fine and jolly. It is
yours." And he handed over the contents of the precious tin can he had
brought with him.

The Doctor took it, looked at the shivering volatile mass and said, "Why
this is quicksilver!"

Concho laughed, "Yes, very quick silver, so!" and he snapped his fingers
to show its sprightliness.

The Doctor's face grew earnest; "Where did you get this, Concho?" he
finally asked.

"It ran from the pot in the mountains beyond."

The Doctor looked incredulous. Then Concho related the whole story.

"Could you find that spot again?"

"Madre de Dios, yes,--I have a mule there; may the devil fly away with
her!"

"And you say your comrades saw this?"

"Why not?"

"And you say they afterwards left you,--deserted you?"

"They did, ingrates!"

The Doctor arose and shut his office door. "Hark ye, Concho," he said,
"that bit of medicine I gave you just now was worth a dollar, it was
worth a dollar because the material of which it was composed was made
from the stuff you have in that can,--quicksilver or mercury. It is one
of the most valuable of metals, especially in a gold-mining country.
My good fellow, if you know where to find enough of it, your fortune is
made."