Part 50

Haines swore deeply to himself while, with trembling hand, he poured out a cupful of whiskey from a bottle standing on a convenient shelf. “Isolate? How can I isolate? There's no building in which--”

“Make one.”

“Make one? Young man, do you know what you are talking about? Do you know where you are? Do you know who is running this camp?”

“No. But I do know that these men must be isolated within an hour.”

“Impossible! I tell you it is impossible!”

“Dr. Haines, an inquest upon the man sent out from this camp last night would result in the verdict of manslaughter. There was no inquest. There will be on the next man that dies if there is any neglect.”

The seriousness of the situation began to dawn upon Haines. “Well,” he said, “if you think you can isolate them, go ahead. I'll see the foreman.”

“Every minute is precious. I gave those four men antitoxin. Are there others?”

“Don't know,” Haines growled, as with an oath he went out, followed by Dr. Bailey. Just outside the door they met the foreman.

“This is Dr. Bailey, Mr. Craigin.” Craigin growled out a salutation. “Dr. Bailey here says these sick men have diphtheria.”

“How does he know?” inquired Craigin shortly.

“He has examined them this morning.”

“Have you?”

“No, not yet.”

“Then you don't know they have diphtheria?”

“No,” replied Haines weakly.

“These men have diphtheria, Mr. Craigin, without a doubt, and they ought to be isolated at once.”

“Isolated? How?”

“A separate camp must be built and someone appointed to attend them.”

“A separate camp!” exclaimed Craigin; “I'll see them blanked first! Look here, Haines, let's have no nonsense about this. I'm three weeks, yes, a month, behind with this job here. This blank, blank muskeg is knocking the whole contract endways. We can't spare a single man half a day. And more than that, you go talking diphtheria in this camp and you can't hold the men here an hour. It's all I can do to hold them as it is.” And Craigin went off into an elaborate course of profanity descriptive of the various characteristics of the men in his employ.

“But what is to be done?” asked Haines helplessly.

“Send 'em out to the steel. They're better in the hospital, anyway. It's fine to-day. We'll send every man Jack out to-day.”

“These men can't be moved,” said Dr. Bailey in a quiet voice. “You sent a man out yesterday and he's dead.”

“He was bound to go himself. We didn't send him. Anyway, it's none of YOUR business. Look here, Haines, you know me. I'm not going to have any of this blank nonsense of isolation hospitals and all that blankety blank rot. Dose 'em up good and send 'em out.”

Dr. Haines stood silent, too evidently afraid of the foreman.

“Mr. Craigin, it would be murder,” said Dr. Bailey, “sure murder. Some of them might get through. Some would be sure to die. The consequences to those responsible--to Dr. Haines, for instance--would be serious. I am quite sure he will never give orders that these men should be moved.”

“He won't, eh? You just wait till you see him do it. Haines will give the orders right enough.” Craigin's laugh was like the growl of a bear. “There's a reason, ain't there, Haines? Now you hear me. Those men are going out to-day, and so are you, you blank, blank interferin' skunk.”

Dr. Bailey smiled sweetly at Craigin. “You may call me what you please just now, Mr. Craigin. Before the day is over you won't have enough names left. For I tell you that these men suffering from diphtheria are going to stay here, and are going to be properly cared for.”