The physician’s eyes in running along the rows of bottles encountered one labeled “Oleum Tiglii,” and paused there.  “You need a rest, eh?” he inquired, mechanically.

“If I don’t get one I’ll wing my way to realms eternal.  I ain’t been dried off for three months.”  Gray turned to regard his caller with a speculative stare, his fingers toyed with the bottle.  “If it wasn’t for this man Linn I’d lay off—­I’d go to jail for him.  But I can’t do anything, with one foot always in the grave.”

The doctor’s face lightened with determination.

“Tom, you’ve been sent from heaven!”

“D’you mean I’ve been sent for, from heaven?” The invalid’s red cheeks blanched, into his mournful eyes leaped a look of quick concern.  “Say!  Am I as sick as all that?”

“This will make you feel better.”  Gray uncorked the bottle and said, shortly, “Take off your shirt.”

“What for?”

“I’m going to rub your chest and arms.”

Slater obeyed, with some reluctance, pausing to inquire, doubtfully: 

“You ain’t stripping me down so you can operate?”

“Nonsense!”

“I’m feeling pretty good again.”

“It’s well to take these things early.  They all look alike at the beginning.”

“What things?”

“Grippe, gumbago, smallpox—­”

“God’lmighty!” exclaimed Slater with a start.  “I haven’t got anything but a light cold.”

“Then this liniment ought to be just the thing.”

“Humph!  It don’t smell like liniment,” Tom declared, after a moment, but the doctor had fallen to work on him and he submitted with resignation.

Perhaps an hour later Dr. Gray appeared at the Appleton bungalow and surprised Eliza by saying: 

“I’ve come to you for some help.  You’re the only soul in Omar that I can trust.”

“Have you gone raving mad?” she inquired.

“No.  I must put an end to Linn’s activity or we’ll be ruined.  These workmen must be held in Omar, and you must help me do it.”

“They have the right to go where they please.”

“Of course, but Gordon will let them out as soon as he has crippled us.  Tell me, would you like to be a trained nurse?”

“No, I would not,” declared Eliza, vehemently.  “I’m neither antiseptic nor prophylactic.”

“Nevertheless, you’re going to be one—­Tom needs you.”

“Tom?  What ails him?”

“Nothing at this moment, but—­wait until to-morrow.”  The physician’s eyes were twinkling, and when he had explained the cause of his amusement Eliza laughed.

“Of course I’ll help,” she said.  “But it won’t hurt the poor fellow, will it?”

“Not in the least, unless it frightens him to death.  Tom’s an awful coward about sickness; that’s why I need some one like you to take care of him.  He’ll be at the hospital to-morrow at three.  If you’ll arrange to be there we’ll break the news to him gently.  I daren’t tackle it alone.”