"Sea voyages and high altitudes wouldn't hurt," he resumed, "but you haven't the money for them. Still you've got to hike from town, my son. Change is all right, but pure air and coarse, good food is your cue. The knob country is not far away. There you'll find all you'd find in New Mexico or Colorado or Arizona, and be in praying distance of the Almighty to boot. I know the spot for you, my son. It is a great knob which stands in the midst of a vast range, and it is belted with pine and cedar trees. Find or build you a shack on it half way up and stay there for a year. That's your prescription, my son." "It's a devilish hard one to take!" I protested, in my ignorance. "Condemned men are not usually so particular as to their method of escape," he admonished, with a half smile. Then he fell to thinking again, with his finger on his eyebrow. It was a peculiar attitude, which I had never seen in anyone else. I sat still, hoping he was evolving some pleasanter plan for my redemption. He was trying to change me into a hillbilly, a savage! I looked at my white hands and carefully kept nails, at my neat business suit and shining shoes, and a slow rebellion awoke within me. I had about decided to ignore 'Crombie and seek more comforting advice, when his rumbling voice came again. "It's mighty good authority which says you can't kick against the pricks. Don't try it, my son. Before we begin final arrangements I want to ask you a question. Have you ever heard of the life-plant?" I gazed at him keenly, for the query did not savor of sanity. I knew that his researches in botany almost equalled his skill in medicine, but in some vague way I suspected a trick. His expression disarmed me. It not only was genuine, but yearning. I have never seen the same look in a man's eyes before or since. "No; I never heard of it," I replied. "What is it?" His answer was spoken slowly and meditatively. "From the same source we get our hint regarding the pricks, we read of a tree whose leaves are for the healing of the nations. Nature is the mother of medicine. There is nothing in pharmaceutics that has not a direct origin from vegetable, animal, or mineral life. It is my belief that there is a remedy for every human ill if we could only lay our hands on it. This brings us to your case, and the life-plant." "Are you giving me straight goods, 'Crombie'?" I demanded, my suspicions rising again. "It is half legend, my son, I'll admit, but I have strong reasons for believing it does exist. It's an Indian tale." "Probably bosh," I muttered, my common sense at bay. "I think not," he answered, calmly and soberly. "Have you ever seen it?" I challenged.