Now, as Ted thought of illness and pestilence spreading across the thinly settled state, his first and keenest apprehension was for the safety of his friend. His work done, he went quickly back to the house where the doctor was already standing on the door-step again. “They are not bad cases, either of them,” he was saying to Ted’s aunt. “If they have good care there is no danger, but if they don’t—then Heaven help them, I can’t.” Ted came close and pulled his sleeve. “Tell me,” he questioned quickly, “Michael Martin isn’t sick, is he?” “Michael Martin?” repeated the doctor. “A big Irishman in the cabin at the upper edge of Big Basin? Yes, he’s down, sick as can be, poor fellow, with no one but a gray old collie dog, about the age of himself, I should think, to keep him company.” He turned back to give a few last directions. “I suppose you are master of the house with your uncle laid up,” he said to Ted again, “and I will have to apply to you to lend me a fresh horse so that I can go on.” “You’re never going on to-night?” exclaimed Ted; “why, you have been riding for all you were worth, all day!” “Yes, and all the night before,” returned the doctor cheerfully, “but this is no time to spare horses or doctors. Good gracious, boy, what’s that?” For Pedro, tall and white in the dark, standing on his hind legs to insert an inquisitive puppy nose between the doctor’s collar and his neck, was an unexpected and startling apparition. “That’s my dog,” Ted explained proudly; “Jim McKenzie, over on Arran Creek, gave him to me; he has a lot of them, you know. Pedro is only half grown now, he is going to be a lot bigger when he is a year old. Yes, I’ll bring you a horse right away, yours couldn’t go another mile.” When, a few minutes later, the sound of hoofs came clattering up from the stables it seemed certain that there were more than four of them. “What’s this?” the doctor inquired, seeing a second horse with saddlebags and blanket roll strapped in place and observing Ted’s boots and riding coat. “My aunt and the girls will take care of Uncle,” the boy replied, “so I am going out to see Michael Martin. You can tell me what to do for him as we ride up to the trail.” They could feel the sharp wind almost before they began climbing the ridge. So far, summer had lingered into November, but the weather was plainly changing now and there had been reports of heavy snowfalls in the mountains. The stars shone dimly, as though through a veil of mist. “You had better push on as fast as you can,” advised the doctor as they came to the parting of their ways. “When a man is as sick as Michael, whatever is to happen, comes quickly.” His horse jumped and snorted. “There’s that white puppy of yours again. What a ghost he is! He is rather big to take with you to a sick man’s cabin.”