"Broken!" he jerked, fumbling the arm. "No--no! Out of joint!" "Let the man alone," commanded Wade. "He'll need proper attendance." "Proper attendance!" shrilled the little old man, with snapping eyes. "Proper attendance! And I guess that you haven't travelled much that you don't know me. Here, two of you, come and sit on this man! I'll have him right in a jiffy. Don't know me, eh?" He again turned a scornful gaze on the time-keeper. "Prophet Eli, the natural bone-setter, mediator between the higher forces and man, disease eradicator, the 'charming man'--I guess this is your first time out-doors! Here, two of you come and hold Cole MacLeod!" When Wade, knitting his brows, manifested further symptoms of interference, Rodburd Ide took him by the arm and led him aside. "Let the old man alone," he said. "He'll know what to do. A little cracked, but he knows medicine better than half the doctors that ever got up as far as this." They heard behind them a dull snap and a howl of pain from MacLeod. "There she goes back," said Ide. "He's lived alone on Tumbledick for twenty years, and I suppose there's a story back of him, but we never found it out this way. We just call him Prophet Eli and listen to his predictions and drink his herb tea and let him set broken bones and charm away disease--and there's no kick coming, for he will never take a cent from any one." Four men had carried MacLeod to the wagon. His forehead was bleeding but he was conscious, for the sudden wrench and bitter pain of the dislocated shoulder had stirred his faculties. "Well, you've had it out, have you?" demanded the Honorable Pulaski, coming around the corner of the store and taking in the scene. "What did I tell you, MacLeod? Listen to me next time!" "And you listen to me, too!" squalled MacLeod, his voice breaking like a child's. "This thing ain't over! It's me or him, Mr. Britt. If he goes in with your crew, I stay out. If you want him, you can have him, but you can't have me. And you know what I've done with your crews!" "You don't mean that, Colin," blustered Britt. "God strike me dead for a liar if I don't." "It's easier to get time-keepers than it is bosses," said the Honorable Pulaski, with the brisk decision natural to him. He whirled on Wade. "You'd better go home, young man. You're too much of a royal Bengal tiger to fit a crew of mine." He turned his back and began to order his men aboard the tote teams. Wade stood looking after them as the wagons "rucked" away, his face working with an emotion he could not suppress. "Well, that's Pulaski all over!" remarked Ide at his elbow. "He'll fell a saw-log across a brook any time so as to get across without wetting his feet, and then go off and leave the log there." He stood back and looked the young man over from head to feet, with the shrewd eye of one appraising goods. "Mr. Wade," he said, at last, "will you step into my back office with me a moment?"