"Hain!" said Narcisse, with scorn indescribable. "Dat's no docteur for one horse. Bah! De mans go seeck, seeck, he can noting. He know noting. He's get on beeg drunk! Non! Nodder docteur. He's come in, fin' tree, four mans seeck on de troat, cough, cough, sore, bad. Fill up de cook-house. Can't do noting. Sainte Marie!
Dat new docteur, he's come on de camp, he's mak' one leet' fight, he's beeld hospital an' get dose seeck mans all nice an' snug.
Bon. Good. By gar, dat's good feller!"
The smile broadened on Fahey's face. "I say, Maclennan, he's captured your camp. He's got the cook, dead sure."
The smile didn't help Maclennan's temper. He opened the office door and passed into Craigin's private room at the back. Here he found Dr. Bailey in charge. As he opened the door the doctor put up his hand for silence and backed him out into the office.
"Excuse me, Mr. Maclennan," he said, "he's asleep and must not be disturbed."
Maclennan shook hands with him with a cold "How are you," and introduced him to Mr. Fahey.
"Is Mr. Craigin ill?" inquired Fahey innocently.
"He has met with a slight accident," replied the doctor. "He is doing well and will be about in a day or two."
"Accident?" snorted Maclennan; then clearing his throat as for a speech he began in a loud tone, "Dr. Bailey, I must say--"
"Excuse me," said the doctor, opening the office door and marshalling them outside, "we'd better go somewhere else if we are going to talk. It is important that my patient should be kept perfectly quiet." The doctor's air was so entirely respectful and at the same time so masterful that Maclennan found himself walking meekly toward the grub-house behind the doctor, with Fahey, the smile on his face broader than ever, bringing up the rear.
Maclennan caught the smile, but in the face of the doctor's quiet, respectful manner he found it difficult to rouse himself to wrath.
He took refuge in bluster.
"Upon my word, Dr. Bailey," he burst forth when once they were inside the grub-house, "it seems to me that you have carried things on with a high hand in this camp. You come in here, a perfect stranger, you head a mutiny, you lay up my foreman with a dangerous wound, with absolutely no authority from anyone. What in the blank, blank do you mean, anyway?" Maclennan was rather pleased to find himself at length taking fire.
"Mr. Maclennan," said the doctor quietly, "it is natural you should be angry. Let me give you the facts before you pass your final judgment. A man was sent to me from this camp in a dying condition. Diphtheria. I learned there were others suffering here with the same disease. I came in at once to offer assistance.
Consulted with Dr. Haines. We came to a practical agreement as to what ought to be done. Mr. Craigin objected. There was some trouble. Unfortunately, Mr. Craigin was hurt."
"Dr. Bailey," said the General Manager, "it will save trouble if you will go somewhat fully into the facts. We want an exact statement of what occurred." The authoritative tone drew Dr.
Bailey's attention to the rugged face of the speaker, with its square forehead and bull-dog jaw. He recognized at once that he had to deal with a man of more than ordinary force, and he proceeded to give him an exact statement of all that had happened, beginning with the death of Scotty Anderson.
"That is all, gentlemen," said the doctor, as he concluded his tale; "I did what I considered was right. Prompt action was necessary. I may have been mistaken, but I think not."
"Mistaken!" cried Fahey, with a great oath. "I tell you, Maclennan, we've had a close shave. We may, perhaps, explain that one man's death, but if six or eight men had gone out of this camp in the condition in which the doctor says they were, the results would have been not only deplorable as far as the men are concerned, but disastrous to us with the public. Why, good heavens above! what a shave it was! Dr. Bailey, I am proud to meet you," continued Fahey, putting out his hand. "You had a most difficult situation to deal with and you handled it like a general."
"I quite agree with you," said Maclennan, shaking Dr. Bailey warmly by the hand. "The measures were somewhat drastic, but something had to be done. Go right on, Doctor. When Craigin is on his feet again we'll send him out."
"Mr. Craigin will be quite fit to work in a day or so. But I would suggest that he keep his place. You can't afford to lose a man of his force."
"Well, well, we'll see, we'll see."
"Dr. Bailey, I'd like to see your hospital arrangements. Mac will be busy just now and will excuse us."
The next two hours the General Manager spent in extracting from Dr.
Bailey his theories in regard to camp sanitation and the care of the sick. Finding a listener at once so sympathetic and so intelligent, Dr. Bailey seized the opportunity of expatiating to the fullest extent upon the theme which, during the last few months, had been absorbing his mind.
"These camps are wrongly constructed in the first instance--every one that I have seen. Almost every law of sanitation is ignored.
