dily put the sufferer to sleep.

"It's an odd case," said the medical man. "The fellow is suffering more
mentally than physically. He must have something awful on his mind."

"He is the victim of some plot--I am certain of it," was the scout's
firm answer.

Not long after this, Pawnee Brown was returning to Arkansas City,
certain that Mortimer Arbuckle would now be well cared for and closely
watched until he and Dick could return to the sufferer.

"As soon as this booming business is over I must try to clear things for
that old gent," murmured the boomer to himself as he rode up to the
telegraph office. "I'd do a good deal for him and that noble son of
his."

Another telegram had just come in, by way of Wichita, which ran as
follows:

"The Lower House of Congress has passed the Oklahoma bill. Pawnee Brown
has woke the politicians up at last. Stand ready to enter Oklahoma if an
attempt is made to throw the bill aside in the Senate, but don't be
rash, as it may not be long before everything comes our way--in fact, it
looks as if everything would come very soon."

At this telegram the great scout was inclined to throw up his hat and
give a cheer. His work in Kansas was having an effect. No longer could
the cattle kings stand up against the rights of the people. He handed
the message to a number of his friends standing near.

"Hurrah fer Pawnee Brown!" shouted one man, and standing on a soap box
read the telegram aloud.

"Score one fer the boomers!"

"An' a big one fer Pawnee."

"Don't hurry now, Pawnee, you've got 'em whar the hair ez good an'
long!"

"It would seem so, men," answered the great scout. "No, I'll be careful
now--since the tide has turned. In less than sixty days I'll wager all I
am worth we'll march into Oklahoma without the first sign of trouble."

It did not take the news long to travel to the boomers' camp, and great
was the rejoicing upon every side.

"Dot's der pest ding I vos hear for a month," said Humpendinck. "Pawnee
ought to haf a medal alreatty."

"It's a stattoo we will put up fer him in Oklahomy," said Delaney. "A
stattoo wid Pawnee a-ridin' loike mad to the new lands, wid the
Homestead act in wan hand an' a bundle o' sthakes in th' other, an'
under the stattoo we'll put the wurruds, 'Pawnee Brown, the St. Patrick
av Oklahomy!'"

"Ach! go on mit yer St. Patrick!" howled Humpendinck. "He vos noddings
but a snake killer."

"Oh, mon!" burst in Rosy Delaney. "A snake killer, M