Sleep blotted out the night. Dawn revealed the fact that the trail foreman knew the secrets of the plain. "That trail boss knew," shouted Joel, rushing into the tent and awakening Dell. "The water rose in every pool. The lower one gained an inch and the upper one gained two. The creek is running freely. The water must be rising out of the ground. Let those Texans bring on their herds. We have oceans of water!" The cattle came. The first week thirty herds passed the new ranch. It took riding. The dead-line was held, the flotsam cared for, and a hand was ever ready to point a herd or nurse the drag end. Open house was maintained. Every arriving foreman was tendered a horse, and left his benediction on the Beaver. The ranch proved a haven to man and beast. One of the first foremen to arrive during the second week was Nat Straw. He drove up at sunset, with a chuck-wagon, halted at the tent, and in his usual easy manner inquired, "Where is the matron of this hospital?" "Here she is," answered Dell, recognizing the man and surmising the situation. "One of your men hurt?" "Not seriously," answered Straw, looking back into the wagon. "Just a little touch of the dengue. He's been drinking stagnant water, out of cow tracks, for the last few months, and that gets into the bones of the best of us. I'm not feeling very well myself." Dell lifted the wagon-sheet and peered inside. "Let's get the poor fellow into the tent," urged the boy. "Can he walk, or can you and I carry him?" "He's the long size Texan, and we'd better try and trail him in," answered Straw, alighting from the wagon. "Where's Dr. Joel Wells?" "Riding the dead-line. He'll be in shortly. I'll fix a cot, and we'll bring the sick man in at once." It was simple malaria, known in the Southwest as dengue fever. The unfortunate lad was made comfortable, and on Joel riding in, Straw had skirmished some corn, and was feeding his mules. "As one of the founders of this hospital," said Straw, after greeting Joel, "this corn has my approval. It is my orders, as one of the trustees, that it be kept in stock hereafter. This team has to go back to the Prairie Dog to-night, and this corn will fortify them for the trip." The situation was explained. "I only lost half a day," continued Straw, "by bringing the poor fellow over to you. He's one of the best men that ever worked for me, and a month's rest will put him on his feet again. Now, if one of you boys will take the team back to--" "Certainly," answered Joel. "Anything a director of this hospital wants done--We're running a relief station now--watering the entire drive this year. Where's your outfit camped?" "A mile above the trail crossing on the Prairie Dog. The wagon's empty. Leave here at two o'clock to-night, and you'll get there in time for breakfast." "I'm your man. Going to the Prairie Dog at night, in the summer, is a horse that's easy curried."