well-matured Bourbon would
barely suffice to stimulate three powerful young men."

"'Um!" said the Professor thoughtfully. "I had not considered that.
They assured me they were water-drinkers. However, a mistake of that
sort is easily rectified."

So speaking, he tiptoed to the door of the bunk-house, and, finger
upon lips, entered. Immediately a sharp exclamation indicated that
something surprising had occurred. I followed quickly, to find the
Professor staring, pop-eyed, at three vacant bunks.

"Gone!" said the Professor, in stupefaction.

"They can't have gone far, sir."

But within five minutes judgment upon this important point had to be
suspended. Uncle Jake had obeyed instructions only too well. He had
not been near the bunk-house. Indeed, he and the other ranch hands had
been eating supper more than a hundred yards away. He was the first to
suggest that no cowboy travelled far afoot--a suggestion that sent the
Professor at a smart trot towards the big barn. Here, also, were three
vacant stalls.

The Professor's patients, illustrating pathetically the ruling
passion, had mounted and galloped away. Uncle Jake said, with a
curious air of conviction--

"It's my idee that they want to hev one good time in town before they
cash in their checks."

"Incredible!" ejaculated the famous pathologist. He looked askance at
me. I replied hesitatingly--

"I think it is possible, perhaps probable."

"If they're makin' San Lorenzy," said Uncle Jake, "we'll find their
store clothes gone too."

We hastened to the bunk-house. Yes, upon the floor lay flannel shirts
and jumpers and overalls. In a corner, where the Professor had left
it, stood the demijohn of whisky. Uncle Jake lifted it.

"Gosh," said he, "the whisky's gone, too!"

"Thank Heaven!" muttered the Professor, wiping his forehead.

"Why?"

"Don't you understand? By the luck of things, they've taken their
medicine!"

"A quart apiece!" I gasped. "We shall find them dead drunk on the
road."

Uncle Jake delivered himself--

"It's my idee that they've jest filled up three bottles. There's a
rubbish heap outside."

"We must follow them," said the Professor, grimly. He was no horseman,
and San Lorenzo was six-and-twenty miles away.

"Yes," said Uncle Jake.

As they approached the barn, the Professor whispered to me--

"There is nothing to regret. If I can get these boys into the County
Hospital before to-morrow morning, I shall have done a splendid