The three of them were anxiously discussing the matter when they were joined by the doctor to whom 'Poleon had referred. "I've done all there is to do here," the physician announced. "Now about Kirby's daughter. You say she's delirious?" The pilot nodded. He told of Rouletta's drenching on the afternoon previous and of the state in which he had just found her. "Jove! Pneumonia, most likely. It sounds serious, and I'm afraid I can't do much. You see I'm all ready to go, but--of course I'll do what I can." "Who's goin' nurse her?" 'Poleon demanded for a second time. "Dere ain't no women in dis place." The physician shook his head. "Who indeed? It's a wretched situation! If she's as ill as you seem to think, why, we'll have to do the best we can, I suppose. She probably won't last long. Come!" Together he and the French Canadian hurried away. CHAPTER XV It was afternoon when Lucky Broad and Kid Bridges came to 'Poleon Doret's tent and called its owner outside. "We're hitched up and ready to say 'gid-dap,' but we came back to see how Letty's getting along," the former explained. 'Poleon shook his head doubtfully; his face was grave. "She's bad seeck." "Does she know about old Sam?" "She ain't know not'in'. She's crazee altogether. Poor li'l gal, she's jus' lak baby. I'm scare' as hell." The confidence-men stared at each other silently; then they stared at Doret. "What we goin' to do about it?" the Kid inquired, finally. 'Poleon was at a loss for an answer; he made no secret of his anxiety. "De doctor say she mus' stay right here--" "HERE?" "He say if she get cold once more--pouf! She die lak dat! Plenty fire, plenty blanket, medicine every hour, dat's all. I'm prayin' for come along some woman--any kin' of woman at all--I don' care if she's squaw." "There ain't any skirts back of us. Best's outfit was the last to leave Linderman. There won't be any more till after the freeze-up." "Eh bien! Den I s'pose I do de bes' I can. She's poor seeck gal in beeg, cold countree wit' no frien's, no money--" "No money?" Broad was startled. "Why, Sam was 'fat'! He had a bank-roll--" "He lose five t'ousan' dollar' playin' card las' night. Less 'n eighty dollar' dey lef' him. Eighty dollar' an'--dis." From the pocket of his mackinaw 'Poleon drew Kirby's revolver, that famous single-action six-shooter, the elaborate ivory grip of which was notched in several places. Broad and his partner eyed the weapon with intense interest. "That's Agnes, all right!" the former declared. "And that's where old Sam kept his books." He ran his thumb-nail over the significant file-marks on the handle. "Looks like an alligator had bit it."