The enterprise. [volume] (Harlem, Mont.) 1899-1926, 1911-06-01

the states. say-burn the Indians
hut, sneak to my shack and lay low.
Don't explain anything. Those miners
wouldn't stay in camp a minute, and
the health off1cer'd hang me for not re-
portin'. Thanks, old chap, thanks. 1t
was dirty Job for you."
heard no more except the woolies
gathering aloft and hitting the distant
sea with a roar. The sturdy little
Doc would Finish the job alone!"
Firing the hut from the inside, l
sneaked through the camp toward the
doctors shack.
1t so happened Gas it always hap
pens) that on the day after my grue-
some job with DR.. Dickson one of the
visiting eastern directors had a tire
MENUS case of cramps" as the super.
intendent impressively announced.
Nov, where was that good-for-noth-
ing, lying, scheming little Doc? Why,
drunk abed, of course"
So, with this verdict, collection Of
exasperated directors visited Dick
sons shack to rout him out. The door
unlocked, but the doctor was nowhere
in camp. A meeting Of the directors
was called which resolved that it was
dangerous to the camp to continue the
employment of a man who was this,
that and the other bad, incompetent,
unfaithful thing. So Doc was dis.
charged on the spot, the while an in
vitation was prepared to another ply.
sician at Juneau to come and fill the
exalted position.
It was an innate sense of respon-
sibility which impelled me to steal
away on the third night after Dick
son had gone to sea with his sick
wards. Packing my light kit I bun
died up what remained and left it
labeled to follow me in the Mary Ann
when the visiting directors returned to
Ketchikan. My note to them did not
create a favorable impression of my
attentiveness to their distressed bust
| ness.
"Gentlemen: AS l may serve you
more by finding DR.. Dickson than by
remaining in camp, have left some
| of my duffle to accompany you on
your voyage to Ketchikan. / am
cruising down the bay to hunt for him
and for-bears. While sailing, please
look for my fire and freshly-blazed
spruce on your port side. Kindly blow
the launch whistle every two miles
down. ought to be from six to eight
miles south on the west coast Of
Prince of Wales island
From the Doctors shack appro-
priated his rifle, supply Of ammuni.
ton and such medicines as thought
he might need; also took some
Scotch whisky, and brandy, pies and
tobacco, cot, tent and bedding, a
stove, shotgun and shells, field glass,
disinfectants, and all the provisions l
could induce the cook to hand out
One of the squaw's babies had died
on the day following their rough voy.
age from the mine. "And the other
little varmint," said Dickson softly,
will pass in his checks presently. The
squaw'll pull through II the buck don't
lay down this week. I'm goin' to
stand by the case while longer ii
| you say the boss isn't cussin' of me"
Early the next day we heard the
siren of the Mary Ann. The launch
was sailing down the bay. What l
said to the rubicund and pudgy Doc.
and just what he said to me as he
stood off twenty yards or so with eyes
of greater eloquence than his quaint
tongue had ever known, doesn't mat
ter here and now. Suffice it that l
made my short but tangled way to the
shore alone, stood under Docs pink
shirt and near the fat new blaze and
waited for the Mary Ann. Her pirate
captain, seeing me waving small
birch specialization, stopped his en-.
| CINE and drifted as close as he deemed
prudent. In few moments the launch