Jim Mann agreed to sit up the next night. The father requested Jim to get someone to sit up with him for company. It was getting late, Lin was dozing, Alfred urging her to go to bed. There was a knock on the door; both felt sure it was Jim. Lin opened the door; there stood Jack Beckley and in about the same condition as the day before. Lin hesitated to admit him. Jack explained that Jim had invited him to sit up with Alfred. He said: "Jim and Dave Adams had a quarrel and Jim threw a pot of white paint on Adams, covering him from head to foot. Jim don't know whether he will be arrested or not; he does not want to be arrested and locked up at night when he can't give bail, so he sent me to look after Alfred." Lin, when Jack's attention was elsewhere, whispered to Alfred: "Don't close a eye tunite, sleep tumorrer; ye can't tell what a whusky drinkin' man'll du, thar's no dependence in 'em." Jack was a most attentive nurse, in the early hours of the night at least. He hovered over the bed at the slightest move of the patient. He insisted on using the liniment almost constantly, declaring he would rub all the soreness out of Alfred's bruises before morning. Alfred, half asleep, remembered Jack saying something about looking for more liniment. Jack left the house ere any of the family arose. Alfred was loud in his praise of Jack's kindness and declared him the best hand in the sick room he had ever seen. The mother was sorry he went off without breakfast. The father said he would hand him a piece of money when he met him. Alfred insisted that he had entirely recovered; Jack had rubbed all the soreness out of his hurts and he would not lie longer in bed. The father and mother commanded he lie until the doctor assured them danger had passed. The doctor called, and Alfred assured him he was all well and wanted to get up and go to work that very day. The doctor said: "Well, you ought to know how you feel. Have you any soreness in your joints or muscles?" "No, sir; Jack Beckley rubbed all the soreness out of me last night." "Turn over, let me see if there is any evidence of bruises." The doctor seemed deeply interested. Alfred could not see his face but he seemed to be critically examining him. He would tap various places on the bruised part of Alfred's anatomy. "Does that hurt? Does that pain you?" would be the question after each tap, to which Alfred would invariably answer: "No, sir; no, sir." After studying a few moments the doctor passed into another part of the house; he was evidently conferring with the mother. Returning he again took Alfred's temperature, examining the tongue even more carefully than previously. The doctor remarked, as if to himself: "It's curious. Did you sleep; have you no pain?" Again he turned Alfred over and gazed long at the parts of the body supposed to be bruised. Alfred began to get interested: "What's the matter, Doc; have you found any bones broken?"