"I see. Well, you must have caught it some how, or else it caught you. Ever tried the old Indian remedy for it?"
"Indian remedy, what's that?"
"Gracious, Mr. Ricks! never heard of the old reliable Indian remedy? I'm astonished at you," went on Tom, in mock candor.
"I've heard tell of Indian vegetable pills—but they aint no good for rheumatism," was the slow answer.
"Where is the pain mostly?"
"Down this left leg."
"Then the Indian remedy will just cure you, sure pop, Mr. Ricks."
"Well, what might it be?"
"It might be cover-liver oil, but it isn't. You get a quart bottle,—a red quart bottle, for a white one won't do,—and fill it with cold spring water, tapped when the moon is full."
"Is that all?"
"Oh, no, no! Then you take the spring water and boil it over a charcoal fire, same as the Modoc Indians used to do. You remember all about that, don't you?"
"I—I—'pears to me I ought to," stammered the old station master.
"Well, after the water is boiled," went on Tom, with a side wink at Dick and Sam, who were already on a broad grin, "you strain it through
