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"We're doing our best," said Maclennan, "and we will continue to do our best. Hello! what's this? What's Craigin doing up here? Hold up, Sandy. We'll look in." At the door of the hospital Dr. Haines met him. "Hello, Doctor! What have you got here?" "Isolation hospital," replied the doctor shortly. "What hospital?" "Isolation." "Has Craigin gone mad all at once?"

But the General Manager had a way of insisting upon his contracts being fulfilled, and this stretch in Maclennan's charge was the one spot which the General Manager feared would occasion delay. "There's the hole," said Maclennan, as they turned down the hill into the swamp.

"Well, this knocks me out," said Maclennan. "Where's Craigin, anyway?" "He's down in his own room in bed." Maclennan turned and got into the sleigh. "Come on, Fahey," he said, "let's go down. Something extraordinary has happened. You can't believe that fellow Haines. What are you laughing at?" Fahey was too much of an Irishman to miss seeing the humour of any situation.

But for him I might have been a murderer two or three times over, and, God help me! but for that lucky shoe of Tommy's I'd have murdered him. I want to say this to you, and I want the doctor here not to lay it up against me." "All right, Craigin," said Maclennan, "I'm glad to hear you say so. And I guess the doctor here won't cherish any grudge."

When you're driving us like all possessed there's no time to think of health." "I tell you, Maclennan, it's bad policy. You have got to think of health. The newspapers are beginning to talk. Why, look at that string of men you met going out. Of course, the great majority of them never should have come in. Hundreds of men are here who never used either shovel or axe.

I tell you, Maclennan, if we had two or three first-class men, with three main hospitals, a branch in every camp, we'd keep the health department in first-class condition. The men would stay with us. We'd get altogether better results." "That's all right," said Maclennan, "but where are you to get your first-class men? They come to us with letters from Directors or some big bug or other.

As they drove into the camp they were met by Narcisse, the cook. "Bo' jour, M'sieu Maclenn'. You want something for hit?" "Good-day, cook," said Maclennan. "Yes, we'll take a cup of tea in a few minutes. I want to see Mr. Craigin." Narcisse drew near Maclennan and in subdued voice announced, "M'sieu Craigin, he's not ver' well. He's hurt hisself. He's lie on bed."

Maclennan was rather pleased to find himself at length taking fire. "Mr. Maclennan," said the doctor quietly, "it is natural you should be angry. Let me give you the facts before you pass your final judgment. A man was sent to me from this camp in a dying condition. Diphtheria. I learned there were others suffering here with the same disease. I came in at once to offer assistance.

"If he gives any of us time," said Tommy, "we'll all take it, begob." "No, men," said the doctor, "let's not make trouble. I know Mr. Maclennan slightly, and he's a just man, and he'll do what's fair. Besides, we don't want to interfere with the job. Give me a dozen men one must be able to cook and in half a day the work will be finished. I will be personally responsible for everything."

But in the meantime, for the next two days, the work on the dump was prosecuted with all vigour, the men feeling in honour bound to support the doctor in that part of the fight which fell to them. Mr. Maclennan was evidently worried. His broad, good-humoured face, which usually wore a smile indicating content with the world and especially with himself, was drawn into a frown.