could
give Cash. He found a box of liver pills, a bottle of Jamaica ginger,
and some iodine--not an encouraging array for a man fifteen miles of
untrodden snow from the nearest human habitation. He took three of
the liver pills--judging them by size rather than what might be their
composition--and a cup of water to Cash and commanded him to sit up
and swallow them. When this was accomplished, Bud felt easier as to his
conscience, though he was still anxious over the possibilities in that
cough.

Twice in the night he got up to put more wood on the fire and to stand
beside Cash's bed and listen to his breathing. Pneumonia, the strong
man's deadly foe, was what he feared. In his cow-punching days he had
seen men die of it before a doctor could be brought from the far-away
town. Had he been alone with Cash, he would have fought his way to town
and brought help, but with Lovin Child to care for he could not take the
trail.

At daylight Cash woke him by stumbling across the floor to the water
bucket. Bud arose then and swore at him for a fool and sent him back
to bed, and savagely greased him again with the bacon grease and
turpentine. He was cheered a little when Cash cussed back, but he did
not like the sound of his voice, for all that, and so threatened mildly
to brain him if he got out of bed again without wrapping a blanket or
something around him.

Thoroughly awakened by this little exchange of civilities, Bud started
a fire in the stove and made coffee for Cash, who drank half a cup quite
meekly. He still had that tearing cough, and his voice was no more than
a croak; but he seemed no worse than he had been the night before. So on
the whole Bud considered the case encouraging, and ate his breakfast an
hour or so earlier than usual. Then he went out and chopped wood until
he heard Lovin Child chirping inside the cabin like a bug-hunting meadow
lark, when he had to hurry in before Lovin Child crawled off the bunk
and got into some mischief.

For a man who was wintering in what is called enforced idleness in a
snow-bound cabin in the mountains, Bud Moore did not find the next few
days hanging heavily on his hands. Far from it.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. THEY HAVE THEIR TROUBLES

To begin with, Lovin Child got hold of Cash's tobacco can and was
feeding it by small handfuls to the flames, when Bud caught him. He
yelled when Bud took it away, and bumped his head on the floor and
yelled again, and spatted his hands toge