nt bowels and cups.

"I'd like to see what the old witch is doing, and how she's doing
it," declared Rutter in a whisper.

"She'll stop short if she catches you looking in on her," replied
the chief, with a smile. "For some reason these Indians are very
jealous of their secrets in treating snakebites. They're wizards,
though, these same red-skinned savages."

"You believe, then, that she can pull Reade through?" asked Rutter
eagerly.

"If she knows her business, and if there's any such thing as saving
the boy she'll do it," declared Mr. Thurston, as they reached
the door of the chief's tent. "Will you come inside, Rutter!
You look badly broken up."

"I am, and I shall be, just as long as Reade is in any danger,"
Rutter admitted. "Reade is a mighty fine boy and I'm fond of
him. Besides, more than a little of our success in getting the
road through on time depends on the boy."

"Is Reade really so valuable, then?"

"He goes over the course, Mr. Thurston, as rapidly as any man
in our corps, and his work is very accurately done. Moreover,
he never kicks. If you told him to work half the night, on top
of a day's work, he'd do it."

"Then Reade, if he recovers, must be watched and rewarded for
anything he does for us," murmured Mr. Thurston.

"Don't say, 'if he recovers,' chief," begged Jack. "I hate to
think of his not pulling through from this snakebite."

"What became of the reptile that did the trick?" asked Mr. Thurston.

"That crawler will never bite anything else," muttered Rutter.
"I got the thing with my riding quirt."

Not very long after Harry Hazelton reached camp, well in advance
of the chainmen, for Harry, good school athlete that he was, had
jog-trotted every step of the way in.

"Where's Tom?" Hazelton demanded.

"Here," called a voice from Reade's tent.

Hazelton turned in that direction, but Mr. Thurston looked out
from the large tent, calling:

"Don't go there now, Hazelton. You wouldn't be admitted. Come here."

Despite his long run, Harry's face displayed pallor as he came
breathlessly into Mr. Thurston's field abode. In a few words,
however, the lad was acquainted with the situation as far as it
had developed.

In the meantime what was the squaw doing with Tom? It must be
admitted that Reade hadn't any too clear an idea. The gaunt old
red woman poured hot water, small quantities at a time, into the
bowls and cups in which she had distributed the herbs. Then she
sti