Your son,Dickey.
When this had been done, he kissed his father twice, smoothed the hair back from the pale, damp forehead, and whispered,—
"I'm going so's you'll get well, my poor old man; and you mustn't make any kick, 'cause it'sgotto be done."
Then he came out as if tired of playing the nurse, and proposed that he sleep under the wagon that night.
"With all hands inside, daddy would be crowded; and I'm as well off out-of-doors. Kiss me, mother, for I'm mighty tired."
Illustrated letter I
n this proposal to retire thus early Mrs. Stevens saw nothing to excite her suspicions regarding Dick's real intentions.
He had worked for thirty-six hours almost incessantly; and it would not be strange if this unusual exertion, together with the weariness caused by excitement, had brought him to the verge of exhaustion.
His mother would have insisted upon bringing out one of the well-worn blankets, but that Dick was decidedly opposed to taking anything from the wagon which might in the slightest degree contribute to his father's comfort.
"I'm very well off on the bare ground, and with the wagon to shelter me from the dew I couldn't be better fixed. Our poor old man needs all we've got, mother; and you may be sure I won't lay awake thinking of the feather-beds we had at Willow Point, 'cause it's about as much as I can do to keep my eyes open."
"You are a dear good boy, and God will reward you. In addition to saving your father's life, for that is what you've done this day, you have lightened my burden until it would be wicked to repine."
"I'll risk your ever doing anything very wicked, mother; and if the time comes when it seems to you as though I don't do exactly as you want me to, just remember all you've said about my being a good boy, an' let it be a stand-off, will you?"
"I am certain you will never do anything to cause me sorrow, Dickey, dear. Don't get up until you have been thoroughly rested; for now that we have food in camp, I can do all that will be necessary."
Then Dick's mother kissed him again, not leaving him until he had stretched out at full length under the wagon; and so tired was the boy that Mrs. Stevens had hardly got back to take up her duties as nurse when his loud breathing told that he was asleep.
When Dick awakened it was still dark; but he believed, because he no longer felt extremely weary, that the night was nearly spent; and for the success of his plan it was of the utmost importance he should set out before his mother was astir.
It was his purpose to travel on foot to Antelope Spring, a distance in an air-line of about forty-fivemiles, fifteen of which would be across the upper portion of Smoke Creek Desert.
In this waste of sand lay all the danger of the undertaking. The number of miles to be travelled troubled him but little, for more than once had he walked nearly as far in a single day while hunting; and he proposed to spend thirty-six hours on each stage of the journey.
Creeping cautiously out from under the wagon, he fastened his letter to the flap of the canvas covering in such a manner that his mother could not fail to see it when she first came out; and then he wrapped in leaves several slices of broiled venison, after which he stowed them in his pocket.
The canteen was filled at a spring near-by.
He saw to it that his ammunition belt contained no more than half a dozen cartridges, and then took up his rifle, handling it almost lovingly; for this, his only valuable possession, he intended to part with in order to secure what might be necessary for his father's relief and comfort.
The weapon was slung over his back where it would not impede his movements; and with a single glance backward he set out with a long, swinging stride such as he knew by experience he could maintain for many hours.
It was still dark when he had crossed the fertilemeadows, and arrived at the border of an apparently limitless expanse of yellow sand.
Here it would not be possible to maintain the pace at which he had started, because of the loose sand in which his feet sank to the depth of an inch at each step.
Having set out at such an early hour, this boy, who was perilling his life in the hope of aiding his father, believed the more dangerous portion of the journey might be accomplished before the heat of the day should be the most severe.
When the sun rose Dick had travelled, as nearly as he could estimate, over three miles of desert; and his courage increased with the knowledge that one-fifth of the distance across the sands had already been traversed.
At the end of the next hour he said to himself that he must be nearly midway on the road of sand; and although the labor of walking was most severe, his heart was very light.
"Once across, I'll push on as fast as any fellow can walk," he said aloud, as if the sound of his own voice gave him cheer. "By making an extra effort I ought to be in Antelope Spring before midnight, and have plenty of time to sleep between now and morning. Half a day there to sell the rifle, an' buy what is needed, an' by sunset Ishould be at the edge of the desert again, ready to make this part of the tramp after dark."
He walked quickly, and like one who intends to go but a short distance.
The forty-five-mile tramp seemed to him but a trifle as compared with what was to be gained by the making of it.
He thought of his mother as she read the note he had left on the flap of the wagon-covering, and wondered if she looked upon his departure as an act of disobedience, which, in fact, it was, since both his parents had insisted he should not attempt it.
Then his thoughts went out to his father, and he told over in his mind all the questions he would ask of the doctor at Antelope Spring; for he had no doubt but that he should find one of that profession there.
He took little heed to the monotonous view around him, until suddenly he saw in the distance what appeared to be a low-hanging cloud; then he said to himself that if a shower should spring up the sun's face would be covered, and the heat, which was now very great, must be lessened.
As this cloud advanced, descending to the sands while it rose toward the heavens, it grew more black; and on either side were long columns ofseeming vapor rising, and as rapidly disappearing.
Then across the darkness on that portion of the horizon something bright moved swiftly, as if a flash of lightning had passed over the face of the cloud; and in an instant the sun and the sky were shut out from view.
Now the clouds took on the appearance of a dense black fog, coming up from the southward over the desert, until Dick was seemingly looking at a gigantic wall, over the face of which shone now and then bright flashes of light.
There was a shrieking and moaning in the air, so it seemed to the startled boy; and he failed to understand the meaning of this strange scene, until, the impenetrable wall having come so near, he could see that what appeared like flashes of light were gigantic columns of sand springing high in the air with fantastic shapes, and glinted by the sun from above the apparent vapor, until they were swallowed up in the enormous bank of cloud behind them.
Then it was Dick knew the meaning of this terrible danger which threatened him.
It was a storm of sand. "Dancing giants" some have termed it, and others speak of it as the "hot blizzard."
As if in an instant the dancing, swirling columns and the rushing cloud of sand, which swayed to and fro in fantastic movements, surrounded him.
He was in the centre of a cyclone freighted with particles of sand.
The wind roared until one might have believed he heard the crash of thunder.
Dick halted, terrified, bewildered; and as he came to a standstill, it seemed to him that the clouds on every hand lowered until he could see the blue sky above. Then with a shriek from the wind the very sand beneath his feet rose and fell like billows of the sea.
The tempest was upon him.
He shielded his eyes with his arm; but the stinging, heated particles sought out every inch of his body, and his clothing afforded but little protection.
The sand penetrated his ears and nostrils, and burned his lips until they bled.
He had heard it said that to remain motionless in such a tempest means death; for wherever the wind meets with an obstruction, there it piles the sand in huge mounds, and his father had told of more than one hunter who had thus been buried alive.
It was death to remain motionless, and yet to move seemed impossible.
Whether he turned to the right or the left the whirlwind struck him with a fury which it was difficult to withstand. It was as if the wind swept in upon him from every point of the compass—as if he was the centre of this whirling, dancing, blinding, murderous onrush of sand.
The boy's throat was dry. He was burning with thirst.
The dust-laden air seemed to have literally filled his lungs, and it was with difficulty he could breathe.
Despite the protection he sought to give, his eyes were inflamed, and the lids cruelly swollen.
He sank ankle-deep at every step, and above him and around him the wild blasts shrieked, until there were times when he feared lest he should be thrown from his feet.
Pulling his hat down over his aching eyes, the bewildered, terrified boy tried to gain some relief from the thirst which assailed him.
He understood that the contents of his canteen must be guarded jealously; for if he lived there were still several miles of the desert journey to be traversed, and the walking would be even more difficult than before the storm set in, because of the shifting sand.
His distress rendered him reckless; and regardlessof the future, he drank fully half the water in the canteen, bathing his eyes with a small quantity poured in the hollow of his hand.
It would have been better if he had not tried to find relief by this last method, for the flying particles of sand adhered to such portions of his face as were wet, forming a coating over the skin almost instantly.
He attempted to brush it off, and the gritty substance cut into his flesh as if he had rubbed it with emery-paper.
Then came into Dick's mind the thought that he should never more see his parents on this earth, and for the instant his courage so far deserted him that he was on the point of flinging himself face downward upon the sand.
Fortunately there appeared before his mental vision a picture of his father lying in the wagon with the certainty that death would come unless his son could bring relief, and this nerved the boy to yet greater exertion.
With his arms over his face, he pushed forward once more, not knowing whether he might be retracing his steps, or proceeding in the proper direction.
Every inch of advance was made against the fierce wind and drifting sand which nearly overthrew him.
Every breath he drew was choked with dust.
How long he thus literally fought against the elements it was impossible for him so much as to conjecture.
He knew his strength was spending rapidly; and when it seemed as if he could not take another step, he stumbled, and fell against a mound of sand.
It had been built by the "dancing giants" when some obstruction had been found in the path of the storm; and as Dick fell prostrate at the foot of this slight elevation, there instantly came a sense of deepest relief.
The sand was no longer thrown against him by the blast; the wind had ceased to buffet him; he was in comparative quiet, and for an instant he failed to understand the reason.
Then he realized that this mound, which had thrown him from his feet, was affording a shelter against the tempest, which was now coming from one direction instead of in a circle as heretofore; and a fervent prayer of thanksgiving went up from his heart, for he believed his life had been saved that he might aid his father.
After recovering in a measure from the exhaustion consequent upon his battle with the elements, he proceeded with infinite care to brush the particlesof sand from his face; and this done, his relief was yet greater.
Overhead the air was full of darkness; the wind still screamed as it whirled aloft the spiral columns of dust; the wave-like drift of the sand surged on either side; but for the moment he was safe.
He had been told that such tempests were of but short duration, and yet it seemed to him as if already half a day had been spent in this fight for life.
Then he said to himself that he could remain where he was in safety until the wind had subsided; but even as the words were formed in his mind he was conscious of a weight upon his limbs as if something was bearing him down, and for the first time he realized that he was being rapidly buried alive.
To remain where he was ten minutes longer must be fatal; and perhaps even that length of time would not be allowed him, for if the wind so shifted as to cut off the top of the mound, then he would be overwhelmed as if in a landslide.
There was nothing for it but to go into the conflict once more; and in this second effort the odds would be still greater against him, because his courage was lessened.
He knew the danger which menaced, and thesuffering he would have to endure the instant he rose from behind the poor shelter; yet it was necessary, and the boy staggered to his feet.
There was nothing to guide him in the right direction, for all around was blackness and flying grit; yet he believed his way lay directly in the teeth of the storm, and because of such belief pressed onward, resolving that he would continue as long as was possible.
As he said to himself so he did, staggering this way and that, but ever pressing forward on the course which he believed to be the true one, blinded, choking, bewildered by the swirling particles until he was dimly conscious of falling, and then he knew no more.
At the moment Dick fell vanquished, hardly more than a quarter of a mile distant were two men mounted on Indian ponies, and leading three burros laden with a miner's outfit for prospecting.
To them the sand-storms of the desert were not strange; and with the knowledge born of experience they made preparations for "riding out the gale," when the low, dark cloud first appeared in the eastern horizon.
The animals were fastened with their heads together; the riders bending forward in the saddles,and, as well as it could be accomplished, throwing over all the heads a number of blankets.
The two horsemen had taken the precaution while assuming this position to present their backs to the wind, and each had tied one end of his blanket around his waist in such manner that it could not be stripped off by the tempest.
Two or three blankets were fastened to the heads of the animals, and thus the faces of all were protected.
When the sand had whirled around them until the animals were buried nearly to their bellies, the riders forced the bunch onward ten or fifteen paces, continuing to make this change of location at least every five minutes during the entire time the tempest raged; and thus it was they escaped being buried in the downpour of sand.
From the time the first blast struck Dick, until the "dancing giants" whirled away to the westward, leaving the sky unclouded and the yellow sands shimmering in the sunlight, no more than thirty minutes had passed; yet in that short interval one human life on which others depended would have been sacrificed, unless these two travellers who were uninjured should chance to reach that exact spot where lay the boy partially covered by the desert's winding-sheet.
"You can talk of a gale at sea where the sailors are half drowned all the time; but it ain't a marker alongside of these 'ere red-hot blizzards, eh, Parsons?" one of the horsemen said as he threw off the blanket from his head with a long-drawn sigh of relief.
"Drownin' must be mighty pleasant kind of fun alongside of chokin' to death on account of bein' filled plum full with dry sand," Parsons replied. "I allow there ain't no call for us to stay here braggin' about our Nevada hurricanes, Tom Robinson, more especially since we'll make less headway now the sand has been stirred up a bit."
"There's nothin' to hold me here," Robinson replied with a laugh.
Straightway the two men turned their ponies' heads toward the west; and as they advanced the patient burros, laden with a miscellaneous assortment of goods until little else than their heads and tails could be seen, followed steadily in the rear.
Five minutes after they had resumed their journey Parsons cried, as he raised himself in the stirrups, shading his eyes with his hands as he peered ahead,—
"What's that 'ere bit of blue out there? Part of somebody's outfit? or was there a shipwreck close at hand?"
"It's a man—most likely a tenderfoot, if he tried to walk across this 'ere desert."
The two halted, and Dick Stevens's life was saved.
Had the storm lasted two or three minutes longer, or these prospectors gone in any other direction, he must have died where he had fallen.
Now he was dragged out from beneath the weight of sand, and laid upon a blanket, while the men, knowing by experience what should be done in such cases, set about restoring the boy to consciousness.
Thanks to the timely attention, Dick soon opened his eyes, stared around him for an instant in bewilderment, and then exclaimed as he made a vain attempt to rise,—
"I come pretty near knockin' under, didn't I? The last I remember was of fallin'."
"I allow it was the closest shave you'll ever have agin," Parsons replied grimly; "an' I'm free to say that them as are sich fools as to cross this 'ere sand-barren afoot oughter stay on it, like as you were in a fair way of doin' before we come along."
"An' that's what daddy would say, I s'pose. If he'd known what I was goin' to do, there would have been a stop put to it, even though it was to save his life I came."
"How can you save anybody's life by comin' out in sich a tom-fool way as this? Less than a quart of water, and not so much as a blanket with which to protect yourself."
"I can do it by goin' to Antelope Spring an' findin' a doctor," Dick replied. "You see, daddy shot himself in the leg—stove a bone all to pieces; and mother don't know what to do, so I slid off this mornin' without tellin' anybody."
"Countin' on footin' it to Antelope Spring?" Parsons asked as if in surprise.
"Yes; it ain't more'n forty-five miles the way we've reckoned it."
"Where did you start from?"
"Buffalo Meadows."
"And when did you count on makin' that forty-five miles?"
"I allowed to get there before midnight."
"Where's your camp?"
"Well, we haven't got anything you can rightly call a camp; but we're located in a prairie schooner near by the spring in the valley."
"How many in the party?"
"Daddy, mother, an' Margie."
The two men looked at Dick an instant, and then glanced at each other, after which Parsons said emphatically,—
"The boy has got grit; but the old man must have been way off to come through this section of the country in a wagon."
Dick explained how it was they chanced to be travelling, and then, eager to gain all the information possible, asked,—
"Do you know anything about Antelope Spring?"
"Nothin' good. There's a settlement by that name; but it's a no-account place."
"I s'pose I'll find a doctor?"
"I reckon they've got somethin' of the kind hangin' 'round. But are you countin' on draggin' one down to Buffalo Meadows?"
"I don't expect to be so lucky. But mother seemed to have the idea that if somebody who knew all about it would tell her how to take care of daddy's wound, she'd get along with such stuff as I could fetch to help him out in the fever. Say, I don't reckon either of you wants to buy a good rifle? There ain't a better one on Humboldt River;" and as he spoke Dick unslung the weapon which hung at his back.
"What's your idea in sellin' the gun? It strikes me, if you're countin' on pullin' through from Buffalo Meadows to Willow Point, you'll need it."
"Of course I shall; but it's got to go. You see, daddy's dead broke, an' I must have money to payfor the doctor's stuff. I don't s'pose you want it; but if you did, here's a good chance. If you don't buy I reckon there'll be some one up to Antelope Spring who'll take it off my hands."
"Haven't you got anything else you can put up, instead of lettin' the rifle go? In this section of the country a tool like that will stand a man good agin starvation."
"It's all I own that's worth anything, an' I'll be mighty sorry to lose it; but she's got to go."
Again the men looked at the boy, then at each other; and Parsons motioned for his companion to follow him a short distance away, where, to Dick's great surprise, they began an animated conversation.
Illustrated letter D
ick was perplexed by the behavior of these two strangers. He failed utterly to understand why they should have anything of such a private nature to discuss that it was necessary to move aside from him; for in a few moments they would be alone on the desert, after he had gone his way.
The discussion, or conversation, whichever it may have been, did not occupy many moments; but brief as was the time, Dick had turned to continue his journey at the instant when the men rejoined him.
"What do you allow you ought to get for that rifle?" Parsons asked abruptly.
"That's what I don't know. You see, I didn't buy it new, but traded for her before we left home. It seems to me she ought to be a bargain at—at—ten dollars."
"An' if you get the cash you're goin' to blow it right in for what the doctor can tell you, an' sichstuff as he thinks your old man ought to have eh?"
"That's what I'll do if it costs as much."
"S'posen it don't? Allow that you've got five dollars left, what then?"
"I'll buy flour, an' bacon, an' somethin' for mother an' Margie with the balance."
"Do you mean to tell me your father was sich a tenderfoot as to come down through this way without any outfit?" Robinson asked sternly.
"He had plenty at the time we started; but you see we struck bad luck all the way along, and when we pulled into Buffalo Meadows we had cooked the last pound of flour. There wasn't even a bit of meat in the camp when he got shot. I knocked over a deer last night, an' that will keep 'em goin' till I get back."
"An' a kid like you is supportin' a family, eh?" Parsons asked in a kindly tone.
"I don't know what kind of a fist I'm goin' to make of it; but that's what I'll try to do till daddy gets on his feet again. Say, how long do you s'pose it'll take a man to get well when one leg is knocked endways with a bullet plum through the bone of it?"
"It'll be quite a bit, I'm thinkin'—too long for you to stay in Buffalo Meadows at this timeof the year. Two months ought to do it, eh, Parsons?"
"Well, yes; he won't get 'round any quicker than that."
"I don't know as it makes much difference if he can't walk a great deal, 'cause after the horses have had plenty of grass for a couple of weeks we'll pull across this place; an' once on the other side I sha'n't worry but what I can take 'em through all right."
"Look here, my son," Robinson said, as he laid his hand on the lad's shoulder. "You've got plenty of sand, that's a fact. I allow there ain't a kid within a thousand miles of here that would tackle the contract you've taken this mornin'. If we wasn't bound to the Winnemucca Range, an it wasn't quite so late in the season, we'd help you out by goin' down to camp an' straightenin' things a bit; but it can't be done now. We'll buy your rifle though, an' that's what we've agreed on. Ten dollars ain't sich a big pile for the gun; but yet it's plenty enough—leastways, it's all we can afford to put out just now."
"I'll be mighty glad to sell it for that if you need a rifle; an' it'll be better to make the trade now than wait till I get into Antelope Spring, 'cause there's no dead certainty I'll find anybody there who'll buy it."
Parsons took from a buckskin bag a small roll of bills, and when he had counted out ten dollars there was but little of the original amount remaining.
He handed the money to Dick; and the latter, after the briefest hesitation, held the rifle toward him.
"Sorry to give it up, eh?" Robinson asked.
"Well, I ain't when it comes to gettin' the money for daddy; if it wasn't for that I'd be. You see, it's the first one I ever owned, an' the way things look now, it'll be a good while before I get another."
"I'll tell you how we'll fix it, son. My partner an' I ain't needin' an extra rifle just now; an' more than as likely as not—in fact, I may say it's certain—we'll be up 'round your way before the winter fairly sets in. Now, if you could keep it for us till then, it would be the biggest kind of a favor, 'cause you see we're prospecting an' have got about all the load the burros can tackle."
"You're—you're—sure you want to buy this gun, eh?"
"Well, if we wasn't, there wouldn't have been much sense in makin' the talk."
"But if you're prospectors, there isn't any show of your gettin' 'round to Willow Point."
"Oh, we drift up an' down, here an' there, justas the case may be. There ain't any question about our trailin' all over the State in time, and you shall keep the rifle in good shape till we call for it. So long, my son. It's time for you to be hoofin' it, if you count on gettin' to Antelope Spring this side of to-morrow mornin'."
As he spoke, Parsons mounted his pony, Robinson following the example; and in another moment the two were on their way once more, leaving Dick in a painful state of uncertainty regarding their purpose in purchasing the gun.
During two or three minutes the boy stood where they had left him, and then cried,—
"Hello there! Hold on a minute, will you?"
"What's the matter now?" and Parsons looked over his shoulder, but neither he nor his partner reined in their steeds.
"Are you buyin' this rifle? or are you makin' believe so's to give me the ten dollars?"
"S'posen we was makin' believe?"
"Why then I wouldn't take the money, 'cause I ain't out begging."
"Don't fret yourself, my son. We've bought the gun all right; an' the next time we meet, you can hand it over. I wish our pile had been bigger so's we could have given twenty, 'cause a kid like you deserves it."
The horsemen continued on, and by this time were so far away that Dick would have been unwise had he attempted to overtake them.
He stood irresolutely an instant as if doubtful of the genuineness of this alleged business transaction.
It was as if the men feared he might attempt to overtake them; for despite the heavy loads on the burros they urged the beasts forward at their best pace, and Dick was still revolving the matter in his mind when they were a mile or more away.
"Well, it's no use for me to stand here tryin' to figure out whether they've given me this money or really mean to buy the rifle, for I've got to strike Antelope Spring between this time an' midnight. Now that there are ten dollars in my pocket, I'll be a pretty poor stick if I don't do it; but the sand-storm came mighty near windin' me up. It was the toughest thing I ever saw."
Then Dick set forward once more, toiling over the loose surface into which his feet sank three or four inches at every step; and when he finally stood on the firm soil east of this waste of shifting sand, it was two hours past noon.
As he had reckoned, there were more than thirty miles yet to be traversed; but the distance troubled him little.
He had in his possession that which would buysuch knowledge and such drugs as his father might need, and he believed it would be almost a sin to rebel even in his thoughts against the labor which must be performed.
Now he advanced, whistling cheerily, with a long stride and a swinging gait that should have carried him over the trail at the rate of four miles an hour; and not until late in the afternoon did he permit himself to halt, and partake of the broiled venison.
Then he ate every morsel, and, the meal finished, said aloud with a low laugh of perfect content:—
"It's lucky I didn't bring any more; for I should eat it to a dead certainty, an' then I wouldn't be in as good trim for walkin'. Daddy always says that the less a fellow has in his stomach the easier he can get over the ground, and the poor old man never struck it truer."
After this halt of fifteen minutes Dick pressed forward without more delay until he came upon the settlement, at what time he knew not, but to the best of his belief it was hardly more than an hour past midnight.
There was no thought in his mind of spending any portion of the money for a bed.
The earth offered such a resting-place as satisfied him; and since the day his father departed fromWillow Point in the hope of finding a location where he could earn a livelihood with but little labor, Dick had more often slept upon the ground than elsewhere.
Now he threw himself down by the side of a storehouse, or shed, where he would be protected from the night wind; and there was hardly more than time to compose himself for rest before his eyes were closed in slumber.
No person in Antelope Spring was awake at an earlier hour next morning than Dick Stevens; for the sun had not yet shown himself when the boy arose to his feet, and looked around as if to say that he was in fine condition.
"A tramp of forty-five miles ain't to be sneezed at, an' when you throw in fifteen miles of desert an' a sand-storm to boot, it's what I call a pretty good day's work; yet I'm feelin' fine as a fiddle," he said in a tone of satisfaction, after which he made an apology for a toilet at the stream near-by.
Dick had no idea in which direction a physician might be found; therefore he halted in front of the first store he saw to wait until the proprietor came, half an hour later, to attend to customers.
It was such a shop as one would naturally expect to find in a settlement among the mountains of Nevada.
From molasses to perfumery, and from ploughs to fish-hooks, the assortment ran, until one would say all his wants might be supplied from the stock.
Cheese was what Dick had decided upon for his morning meal; and after purchasing two pounds, together with such an amount of crackers as he thought would be necessary, he set about eating breakfast at the same time that he gained the desired information.
"I've come from the other side of Smoke Creek Desert," he began, speaking indistinctly because of the fulness of his mouth, "an' want to find a doctor."
"Ain't sick, are yer?" the shopkeeper asked with mild curiosity.
"Daddy shot himself in the leg, an' mother don't know what to do for him; so I've come up to hire a doctor to tell me, an' buy whatever he says is needed."
"A kid like you come across the desert! Where's your pony?"
"I haven't got any. Daddy's horses are so nearly played out that they've got to be left to grass two or three weeks, if we count on doin' anything with 'em."
"Did you walk across?" the shopkeeper asked incredulously.
"That's what I did;" and Dick told of his sufferings during the sand-storm, not in a boastful way, but as if it were his purpose to give the prospectors the praise they deserved.
When he had concluded, the proprietor plunged his hands deep in his pockets, surveyed the boy from head to foot much as Parsons and Robinson had, saying not a word until Dick's face reddened under the close scrutiny, when he exclaimed,—
"Well, I'll be jiggered! A kid of your size—say, how old are you, bub?"
"Thirteen."
"Well, a baby of thirteen lightin' out across Smoke Creek Desert, an' all for the sake of helpin' your dad, eh? Do you reckon you can bite out of Dr. Manter's ear all you want to know, an' then go back an' run the business?"
"It seems as if he ought to tell me what mother needs to do, an' I can remember every word. Then she said there would have to be some medicine to stop the fever; an' that's what I'm countin' on buyin', if he gives me the name of it."
"When are you goin' back?"
"I'm in hopes to get away this noon, an' then I'll be in camp by to-morrow mornin'."
"Say, sonny, do you want to stuff me with the yarn that you've travelled forty-five miles in less'nthirty-six hours, an' count on doin' the same thing right over agin, which is ninety miles in less'n three days?"
"I've done the first half of the journey, an' it couldn't have been more'n two hours past midnight when I got here. With such a lay-out as this for breakfast I'll be in good shape for goin' back; an' it would be a mighty poor boy who couldn't get there between this noon an' to-morrow mornin', 'cause I'll go across the desert after dark, an' it ain't likely there'll be another sand-storm."
"Well, look here, sonny, stand right there for a minute, will you, while I go out? I won't be gone a great while, an' you can finish up your breakfast."
"But I want to see the doctor as soon as I can, you know."
"That'll be all right. I'll make it in my way to help you along so you sha'n't be kept in this town a single hour more'n 's necessary."
Having said this, and without waiting to learn whether his young and early customer was willing to do as he had requested, the proprietor of the store hurriedly left the building, and Dick had finished his meal before he returned.
The boy was stowing the remainder of the cheese and crackers into his pockets when the shopkeeper,accompanied by two men, who looked as if they might have been hunters or miners, entered.
"Is this the kid?" one of the strangers asked, looking as curiously at the boy as had the proprietor.
"That's the one; an' the yarn he tells must be pretty nigh true, 'cause he met Parsons an' Robinson, an' accordin' to his story they bought his rifle, leavin' it with him till such time as they want to claim it."
The newcomers questioned Dick so closely regarding the journey and its purpose that he began to fear something was wrong, and asked nervously,—
"What's the reason I shouldn't have come up here? When a feller's father is goin' to die if he can't get a doctor afoul of him, it's a case of hustlin' right sharp."
"An' accordin' to the account you've given, that's about what you've been doin'," one of the strangers said with an approving nod, which reassured the boy to such an extent that he answered without hesitation the further questions which were asked.
When the curiosity of the men had been satisfied, one of those whom the landlord had brought in, and who was addressed by his companions as "BobMason," said to Dick, as he laid his hand on the boy's shoulder,—
"We'll take care of you, my bold kid, an' see that you get all your father needs. If it wasn't that the doctor in this 'ere town is worked mighty hard, I'd make it my business to send him right down to your camp. But I reckon, if it's nothin' more'n a bullet through your dad's leg, he'll pull 'round all right with sich things as you can carry from here. Now come on, an' we'll find out what the pill-master thinks of the case."
Dick was thoroughly surprised that so much interest in his affairs should be manifested by strangers, and it pleased him that he was to have assistance in this search for medical knowledge.
He followed this new friend readily, and in a few moments was standing before the doctor, listening to Mr. Mason's highly colored version of the journey.
When he would have corrected the gentleman as to some of the points which had been exaggerated, he was kindly bade to "hold his tongue."
"I've heard all your yarn, my boy, an' can imagine a good many things you didn't tell. There's precious few of us in this section of the country that was ever overtook, while on foot, by the dancin' giants, an' lived to tell the story."
"I wouldn't be alive if it hadn't been for Mr. Parsons an' Mr. Robinson."
"What they did don't cut any figger. It's what you went through with that I'm talkin' about, an' the doctor is bound to hear the whole story before he gives up what he knows."
Not until Mr. Mason had concluded the recital after his own fashion did he give the professional gentleman an opportunity to impart the information which Dick had worked so hard to obtain; and then the physician, after telling him in a general way how the patient should be treated, wrote out in detail instructions for Mrs. Stevens to follow.
Then from his store of drugs, pills, and nauseous potions he selected such as might be needed in the case, writing on each package full directions, at the expense of at least an hour's time; and when he had finished, Dick believed that his father would suffer for nothing in the way of medicine.
"There, lad," Dr. Manter said as he concluded his labors, and tied in the smallest possible compass the articles he had set out, "I allow your mother should be able to do all that is necessary; and unless the bone is so shattered that the leg must be amputated, it is possible you will get along as well without a physician as with one."
"Do you mean there's a chance my poor old man might have to let his leg be cut off?"
"If you have described the wound correctly, I should say there was every danger. I have written, however, to your mother, so that she may be able to decide if anything of the kind is probable, and then you may be obliged to make another journey up here. At all events, if your father's life should be in danger, you may depend upon it I will come to the camp; although I am free to admit that a ride across Smoke Creek Desert isn't one that I hanker for, although you seem to have made the journey on foot and thought little of it."
"That's 'cause I was doin' it on daddy's account. How much is your price for this stuff?"
Mr. Mason instantly plunged his hand in his pocket; and before he could withdraw it the physician replied,—
"You have earned all I've given you, lad; and I'd be ashamed to take even a dollar from a plucky little shaver like you."
"But I've got ten dollars, an' can pay my way. If I'd thought the prospectors meant to give me the money instead of buyin' the rifle, I'd got along without it; but they said twice over that they wanted the gun, an' I believed 'em."
"No one can accuse you of being a beggar; butif it's the same to you, I'd rather let this go on account, and some day perhaps, when you've struck it rich, come around and we'll have a settlement."
"Doctor, you're a man, every inch of you!" Mr. Mason said in a loud tone, as he slapped the physician on the shoulder with a force that caused him to wince with absolute pain. "You're a man; an' if the people in this town don't know it already, they shall find it out from yours truly. I reckon we can ante up a little something in this 'ere matter, so the kid won't go home empty-handed; for I tell you there's nothin' in Antelope Spring too good for him."
Again Dick looked about him in surprise that such praise should be bestowed for what seemed to him a very simple act. The kindly manner in which the physician bade him good-by, with the assurance that he would himself go to Buffalo Meadows if it should become necessary, served to increase the boy's astonishment; and instead of thanking the gentleman, he could only say, because of his bewilderment,—
"I did it for daddy, sir; an' it would be a mean kind of fellow who wouldn't do as much."
Then Mr. Mason hurried him away, and despite Dick's protests insisted on leading him from oneplace to another, until it was as if he had been introduced to every citizen in the settlement.
He was not called upon to tell his story again, because his conductor did that for him; and the details of the narrative were magnified with each repetition, until Dick believed it absolutely necessary he should contradict certain portions wherein he was depicted as a hero of the first class.
When Mr. Mason had shown the boy fully around the town, he said by way of parting,—
"Now you go down to Mansfield's, an' wait there till I come."
"Where's Mansfield's?"
"That's the store where I found you."
"But I can't wait a great while, Mr. Mason. You know I've got to be back by to-morrow mornin'; an' I ought to be leavin' now, 'cause it's pretty near noon."
"Don't worry your head about that, my son. You shall get to camp before sunrise to-morrow mornin', an' without so very much work on your part, either. Now go down to Mansfield's, an' wait there till I come. Mind you don't leave this town till I'm back there."
Mr. Mason hurried away as he ceased speaking; and Dick walked slowly down the street, debating in his mind whether he must obey this order.