"What's the matter?" Smoke demanded of one whose blankets could not
hide his broad shoulders and massively muscled body, whose eyes were
pain-racked and whose cheeks were hollow. "Smallpox? What is it?"

In reply, the man pointed at his mouth, spreading black and swollen lips
in the effort; and Smoke recoiled at the sight.

"Scurvy," he muttered to Shorty; and the man confirmed the diagnosis
with a nod of the head.

"Plenty of grub?" Shorty asked.

"Yep," was the answer from a man in another bunk. "Help yourself.
There's slathers of it. The cabin next on the other side is empty. Cache
is right alongside. Wade into it."

In every cabin they visited that night they found a similar situation.
Scurvy had smitten the whole camp. A dozen women were in the party,
though the two men did not see all of them. Originally there had been
ninety-three men and women. But ten had died, and two had recently
disappeared. Smoke told of finding the two, and expressed surprise
that none had gone that short distance down the trail to find out for
themselves. What particularly struck him and Shorty was the helplessness
of these people. Their cabins were littered and dirty. The dishes stood
unwashed on the rough plank tables. There was no mutual aid. A cabin's
troubles were its own troubles, and already they had ceased from the
exertion of burying their dead.

"It's almost weird," Smoke confided to Shorty. "I've met shirkers and
loafers, but I never met so many all at one time. You heard what they
said. They've never done a tap. I'll bet they haven't washed their own
faces. No wonder they got scurvy."

"But vegetarians hadn't ought to get scurvy," Shorty contended. "It's
the salt-meat-eaters that's supposed to fall for it. And they don't eat
meat, salt or fresh, raw or cooked, or any other way."

Smoke shook his head. "I know. And it's vegetable diet that cures
scurvy. No drugs will do it. Vegetables, especially potatoes, are the
only dope. But don't forget one thing, Shorty: we are not up against
a theory but a condition. The fact is these grass-eaters have all got
scurvy."

"Must be contagious."

"No; that the doctors do know. Scurvy is not a germ disease. It can't
be caught. It's generated. As near as I can get it, it's due to an
impoverished condition of the blood. Its cause is not something they've
got, but something they haven't got. A man gets scurvy for lack of
certain chemicals in his blood, and those chemicals don't co