te man entered, who seemed to be in a
great hurry.

"Are you Mr. Steadman?" he at once began.

"Yes," replied Keith. "What can I do for you?"

"You're a doctor, I understand."

"Yes."

"Well, then, you're wanted bad at Siwash Creek. Jim Blasco's knocked
out. Gun bust, and tore away his arm. Jim's a devil, if ever there
was one, but he's hard pinched now and squaking like a baby. His
cabin's the first you'll come to, in a bunch of timber. Will you go?"

"Certainly," replied Keith. "But, say, when did this happen?"

"Night before last."

"And who brought word?"

"Dave Perkins, and he travelled like he--, oh, I beg your pardon, like
the wind."

"And got in at midnight. Why didn't he come to me at once? I might
have been on the way by this time."

The man gave a slight start, and looked up quickly into the
missionary's face, but seeing no shadow of suspicion there, replied:

"We didn't know about it till this morning. You see, Dave was so
tuckered out from cold and want of sleep that he had to warm up with a
drink or two, and so forgot his business. He only woke a short time
ago, and swore like a--a--trooper at Perdue and his whiskey. I guess
he's swearing yet, for as soon as he'd coughed up his story I left to
find you."

"I'll be off as soon as possible," said Keith, throwing a stick of wood
into the stove, and reaching for the frying pan.

"Now, Yukon, old boy," he continued, when the man had gone, "there's
stiff work ahead. But you've been there before, and know the way, so I
want you to strike such a gait that it will make Don and Hector think
there's a fox ahead for sure. Brisko we'll leave with Amos to get some
flesh on his staring ribs."

The dog pricked up his ears, wagged his tail, and gave a joyful bark.
"Very well, master," he seemed to say, "you can depend upon me. I've
never failed you yet."

In less than an hour Keith stood girt for his long run. His face
glowed with enthusiasm; his mission was one of mercy, and it thrilled
his whole being. The dogs stood before the cabin shaking their bells,
impatient to be away. A parting word to Amos, a crack of the whip in
the frosty air, and the three noble brutes bounded forward out upon the
trail, which wound through the village, past Perdue's store, and into
the great lone beyond.

Pritchen was leaning over the bar when Keith sped by. "Bells!" he
cried, rushing to the small window. "There he goes, boys; see him!"

Instantly