"I kin git him to take the quinine easy enough," he mused. "All I've got to do is to put it in a bottle o' whisky, and he'd drink it if there wuz 40 'doses o' quinine in it. But the bluemass's a very different thing. He's got to swaller it in a lump, and what in the world kin I put it in that he'll swaller whole?" Si wandered over to the Sutler's in hopes of seeing something there that would help him. He was about despairing when he noticed a boy open a can of large, yellow peaches. "The very thing," said Si, slapping his thigh. "Say, young man, gi' me a can o' peaches jest like them." Si took his can and carefully approached his tent, that he might decide upon his plan before Shorty could see him and his load. He discovered that Shorty was sitting at a little distance, with his back to him, cleaning his gun, which he had taken apart. "Bully," thought Si. "Just the thing. His hands{154} are dirty and greasy, and he won't want to tech anything to eat." He slipped into the tent, cut open the can, took out a large peach with a spoon, laid the pellet of bluemass in it, laid another slice of peach upon it, and then came around in front of Shorty, holding out the spoon. "Open your mouth and shut your eyes, Shorty," he said. "I saw some o' the nicest canned peaches down at the Sutler's, and I suddenly got hungry for some. I bought a can and brung 'em up to the tent. Jest try 'em." He stuck the spoon out towards Shorty's mouth. The latter, with his gunlock in one hand and a greasy rag in the other, looked at the tempting morsel, opened his mouth, and the deed was done. "Must've left a stone in that peach," he said, as he gulped it down. "Mebbe so," said Si, with a guilty flush, and pretending to examine the others. "But I don't find none in the rest Have another?" Shorty swallowed two or three spoonfuls more, and then gasped: "They're awful nice, Si, but I've got enough. Keep the rest for yourself." Si went back to the tent and finished the can with mingled emotions of triumph at having succeeded, and of contrition at playing a trick on his partner. He decided to make amends for the latter by giving Shorty an unusually large quantity of whisky to take with his quinine. Si was generally very rigid in his temperance ideas, He strongly disapproved of Shorty's{155} drinking, and always interposed all the obstacles he could in the way of it. But this was an extraordinary case--it would be "using liquor for a medicinal purpose"--and his conscience was quieted. Co. Q had one of those men--to be found in every company--who can get whisky under apparently any and all circumstances. In every company there is always one man who seemingly can find something to get drunk on in the midst of the Desert of Sahara. To Co. Q's representative of this class Si went, and was piloted to where, after solemn assurances against "giving away," he procured a halfpint of fairly-good applejack, into which he put his doses of quinine.