Doctor Miranda was right about Andrew. By the time he had finished moving his party and their luggage from the stifling railroad shed to the cool courtyard of Honda's principal inn, the schoolmaster had been beaten in his last feeble fight for liberty and had become the victim to an unlimited amount of quininizing. No need now to force his eyelids apart to reveal the telltale yellow within. Even a tyro in such matters could see from his jaundiced appearance, his quick breathing, his general inertia, that he was in the first stages of an attack of fever. This being beyond dispute, the little doctor dropped his fighting humor for one of bustling activity, beneath which there lurked a rough sort of tenderness for his unhappy patient. A bed, a pitcher of "lemon squash," and a box of the famous "pildoras," were quickly provided by dint of much storming at the indolent hotel servants and angry prodding of the astonished proprietor. When all his arrangements were perfected, Andrew completely in his power and stuffed as full as might be with quinine, the triumphant Miranda rejoined his friends, his rubicund features beaming with satisfaction. "No! No! my lady," he answered Una's anxious inquiries, "there is no danger. That leetle fellow has my pills and plenty of squash. He cannot die. Soon he will be well. You will see. I am doctor to him." His assurances had their effect, although they failed to convince the despondent Mrs. Quayle, who shook her head dolefully, rocking herself back and forth in her chair and bewailing the sad fate that was awaiting "poor dear Mr. Parmelee in this desolate country." At all of which the irascible doctor scowled ominously, taking her complaint as a reflection on his medical skill. Leighton, however, faced the situation in a matter of fact way, while David set about the necessary preparations for his journey to Bogota. An excellent opportunity offered that very day to join General Herran's party in the trip over the mountains. A train of twenty mules and burros was needed for the expedition, and to procure these and load them with the necessary baggage, called for no small amount of work and skillful management. The stone courtyard of the inn rang with the shouts of burro drivers, the quarrels of peons intent on selling their wares to travelers at the best prices, and the threats and commands of General Herran and his officers. Above this din, apparently necessary on such occasions, one could hear the strident voice of Doctor Miranda, browbeating some luckless vendor of merchandise, or ridiculing the exertions of those who would bestow a maximum of baggage on a minimum of burro. In spite of the confusion, however, everything moved along in as orderly and expeditious a manner as is possible with these ancient methods of travel. By midday the last load was adjusted, the twenty animals forming the cavalcade stood strapped and ready for the start.