going into an inner room, he brought out a bottle of
dark-colored liquid, wrote a few lines of prescription, and handed it to
Alessandro, saying, "That will do her good, I guess."

"Thanks, Senor, thanks," said Alessandro.

The doctor stared. "That's the first Indian's said 'Thank you' in this
office," he said. "You tell the Agent you've brought him a rara avis."

"What's that, Jos?" said Aunt Ri, as they went out.

"Donno!" said Jos. "I don't like thet man, anyhow, mammy. He's no good."

Alessandro looked at the bottle of medicine like one in a dream. Would
it make the baby well? Had it indeed been given to him by that great
Government in Washington? Was he to be protected now? Could this man,
who had been sent out to take care of Indians, get back his San Pasquale
farm for him? Alessandro's brain was in a whirl.

From the doctor's office they went to the Agent's house. Here, Aunt Ri
felt herself more at home.

"I've brought ye thet Injun I wuz tellin' ye uv," she said, with a wave
of her hand toward Alessandro. "We've ben ter ther doctor's to git some
metcen fur his baby. She's reel sick, I'm afeerd."

The Agent sat down at his desk, opened a large ledger, saying as he did
so, "The man's never been here before, has he?"

"No," said Aunt Ri.

"What is his name?"

Jos gave it, and the Agent began to write it in the book. "Stop him."
cried Alessandro, agitatedly to Jos. "Don't let him write, till I know
what he puts my name in his book for!"

"Wait," said Jos. "He doesn't want you to write his name in that book.
He wants to know what it's put there for."

Wheeling his chair with a look of suppressed impatience, yet trying
to speak kindly, the Agent said: "There's no making these Indians
understand anything. They seem to think if I have their names in my
book, it gives me some power over them."

"Wall, don't it?" said the direct-minded Aunt Ri. "Hain't yer got any
power over 'em? If yer hain't got it over them, who have yer got it
over? What yer goin' to do for 'em?"

The Agent laughed in spite of himself. "Well, Aunt Ri,"--she was already
"Aunt Ri" to the Agent's boys,--"that's just the trouble with this
Agency. It is very different from what it would be if I had all my
Indians on a reservation."

Alessandro understood the words "my Indians." He had heard them before.

"What does he mean by his Indians, Jos?" he asked fiercely. "I will not
have my name in his book if it makes me his."

When Jos rel