her short, the doctor said, “Yes, yes, I understand. I'll give him something that will help her;” and going into an inner room, he brought out a bottle of dark-colored liquid, wrote a few lines of prescription, and handed it to Alessandro, saying, “That will do her good, I guess.”
“Thanks, Señor, thanks,” said Alessandro.
The doctor stared. “That's the first Indian's said 'Thank you' in this office,” he said. “You tell the Agent you've brought him a rara avis.”
“What's that, Jos?” said Aunt Ri, as they went out.
“Donno!” said Jos. “I don't like thet man, anyhow, mammy. He's no good.”
Alessandro looked at the bottle of medicine like one in a dream. Would it make the baby well? Had it indeed been given to him by that great Government in Washington? Was he to be protected now? Could this man, who had been sent out to take care of Indians, get back his San Pasquale farm for him? Alessandro's brain was in a whirl.
From the doctor's office they went to the Agent's house. Here, Aunt Ri felt herself more at home.
“I've brought ye thet Injun I wuz tellin' ye uv,” she said, with a wave of her hand toward Alessandro. “We've ben ter ther doctor's to git some metcen fur his baby. She's reel sick, I'm afeerd.”
The Agent sat down at his desk, opened a large ledger, saying as he did so, “The man's never been here before, has he?”
“No,” said Aunt Ri.
“What is his name?”
Jos gave it, and the Agent began to write it in the book. “Stop him.” cried Alessandro, agitatedly to Jos. “Don't let him write, till I know what he puts my name in his book for!”
“Wait,” said Jos. “He doesn't want you to write
