k of water."

"Ugh! Water heap good. Joe he take some."

Immediately Frank released the old man's wrists, and Joe slipped his
knife out of sight with something like a show of shame.

In another moment Merry had his canteen, filled it at the spring, and
handed it to Crowfoot, who gravely took it and began to drink. The boys
stood around, and their eyes bulged as the old man held the canteen to
his mouth, tipping it more and more skyward, a deep gurgling coming from
his throat. He continued to drink until the canteen was quite emptied,
when he lowered it with perfect gravity, wiped his lips with the back of
his hand, and observed:

"Joe him a little dry!"

"Well, I should say so!" smiled Frank. "Your interior must have been as
parched as an alkali desert, Joe."

"If he takes many drinks like that," said Ready, with a queer twist of
his mug, "there'll be a drought in this country that will make an
ordinary dry spell look like a back number."

Crowfoot did not smile. Giving back the canteen, he sat down on the
ground, resting his elbows on his knees and taking his head in his
hands. He was the picture of misery and dejection.

"Injun big fool!" he groaned. "Last night feel much good; to-day feel a
lot bad. Big pain in head."

"We've all been there many's the time," sang Jack Ready softly.

Then the eccentric chap sat down on the ground beside the redskin, about
whom he placed an arm.

"Joseph," he said, "methinks I know how it is! I have felt that way heap
often. Ugh! Sick all over."

Joe grunted.

"Nothing worth living for."

Another grunt.

"Much rather be dead with the beautiful daisies growing on my grave than
living in such misery."

Again a grunt.

"Internal organs all out of gear, stomach on a strike, head bigger than
a barrel. Are those the symptoms, Joseph?"

"Much so," confessed old Joe.

"Joseph, you have my sympathy. You've never been to college, but you
have received part of a college education. I have taken my degree in
that branch. I'm a P. M. of J. C.--Past Master of Jag Carriers. But I
have reformed,