ly but quickly, bent over his patient,
felt his pulse, and listened to his breathing. Harding leaned forward
eagerly. Blake seemed less restless; his face, which had been
furrowed, was relaxing; there was a faint damp on it. He moved and
sighed; and then, turning his head weakly, he closed his eyes.

A few moments later Clarke stood up, stretching out his arms with a
gesture of deep weariness.

"I believe your partner has turned the corner," he said, "He must sleep
as long as he is able."

Harding crept away, conscious of a relief so overpowering that he was
afraid he might do something foolish and disturb his comrade if he
remained. Scarcely noticing where he was going, he plunged into the
swamp and plowed through it, smashing down the reeds and splashing in
the pools. Quick movement was balm to his raw-edged nerves, for the
suspense of the last two hours had tried him very hard.

When he returned to camp, rather wet and muddy, Clarke was sitting by
his patient's side, and Harding saw that Blake was sleeping soundly.
With a sense of thankfulness too deep for expression, he set about
preparing the evening meal. Now he could eat with appetite.

Before he and Benson had finished their supper, Clarke joined them.

"I believe the worst danger's over," he said; "though there's a
possibility of a relapse. He'll need careful attention for several
days."

"Longer, I think," said Harding. "Anyhow, you'll have to make up your
mind to stay while it strikes us as necessary."

"My time's valuable, and you run some risk in keeping me. You must
recognize that there's a strong likelihood that the Stonies will pick
up my trail."

"If they get here, they'll run up against all the trouble they'll have
any use for," Harding replied. "However, I told our guide, who seems
pretty smart at such matters, to take precautions; and I understand
that he fixed things so it would be hard to follow our tracks. You may
remember that he took us across all the bare rocks he could find, and
made us wade up a creek. Besides, as you seem to have played on your
friends' superstitions, they may not find anything remarkable in your
disappearing mysteriously."

"You're a capable man," Clarke laughed. "Anyway, I find this case
appeals to my professional interest. For one thing, it's curious that
the malaria should attack him in a severe form after a lengthy absence
from the tropical jungles where he caught it. By the way, how long is