XVIII. The Medical Superintendent of the Crow's Nest - Page 2

"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. "I can't help it, Maclennan. I'll bet you a box of cigars that man Bailey is an Irishman. He must be a whirlwind. But it's no laughing matter," continued the General Manager, sobering up. "This has a very serious aspect. There are a whole lot of men sick in our camps. You contractors don't pay enough attention to your health."

"Health! 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. They cut themselves, get cold, rheumatism, or something; they're not fit for their work. All the same, we get blamed. But my theory is that every camp should have an hospital, with three main hospitals along this branch. There's one at Macleod. It is filled, overflowing. A young missionary fellow, Boyle, has got one running out at Kuskinook supported by some Toronto ladies. It's doing fine work, too; but it's overflowing. There's a young lady in charge there, a Miss Robertson, and she's a daisy. The trouble there is you can't get the fellows to leave, and I don't blame them. If ever I get sick send me to her. 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. You've got to appoint them. Look at that man Haines. He doesn't know his work and he's drunk half the time. Dr. Bailey seems to be different. He certainly knows his work and he never touches whiskey. I got him up from the Gap to No. 1. In two weeks' time he had things in great shape. Funny thing, too, when he's fighting some sickness or busy he's all right, but when things get quiet he hits the green table hard. He's a wonder at poker, they say."

The General Manager pricked up his ears. "Poker, eh? I'll remember that."

"But this here business is going too far," continued Maclennan. "I didn't hire him to run my camps. Well, we'll see what Craigin has to say."

As they drove into the camp they were met by Narcisse, the cook.

"Bo' jour, M'sieu