e Mine."

Jim introduced Dr. Scott, who said:

"I must see my patient and be away in an hour. I don't want to
get stalled here by a thaw."

So Tom led the way to the shack, and did not see the departure of
the law's five officers.

Outside Reade carefully dropped the ore he had brought along and
made a sign to his workmen to do the same. Then the partners
and the physician went inside.

Tom watched closely while the physician placed a thermometer in
Harry's mouth and felt his pulse. Respiration was also counted,
after which Dr. Scott produced a stethoscope and listened at Harry's
chest and back. A little more, and the examination was completed.

"Gentlemen," announced Dr. Scott, "you've brought me all this
distance over the snow-crust to see a patient who is just about
convalescent. This young man may have some nourishment today,
and by day after tomorrow he will be calling loudly for the cook."

"What has been the trouble, doc?" Hazelton asked.

"Congestion of the right lung, my son, but the congestion has
almost wholly disappeared."

A mist came before Tom Reade's eyes. Now that his chum was out
of danger Reade realized how severe on him the whole ordeal had
been.

As soon as Tom found a chance he asked Dr. Scott:

"Will a little excitement of the happiest kind hurt Hazelton any?"

"Just what kind of excitement?"

"We've had a disappointing mine that has turned over night into
a bonanza. I've a lot of the finest specimens outside."

"Bring them in," directed the physician.

Tom came in with an armful.

"Harry," he called briskly, "we were right in thinking we had
a rich vein. The only trouble was that we were working eight
or ten feet south of the real vein. Look over these specimens."

Tom ranged half a dozen on the top blanket. When Harry's glistening
eyes had looked them all over, Tom produced other specimens of
ore. Dr. Scott examined them, too, with a critical eye.

"If you've got much of this stuff in your mine, Reade," said the
medical man, "you won't need to work much longer."

"Won't need to work much longer?" gasped Tom Reade. "Man alive,
we don't want to stop working. When a man stops working he may
as well consult the undertaker, for he's practically dead anyway.
What we want gold for is so that we can go on working on a bigger
scale than ever! And now, Harry, the name for our mine has come
to me."

"What are you going to call it?" Hazelton asked.

"With your cons