All I need is plenty of water."
"Especially as you think the water is making you sick," returned Enoch
drily. "You can't get away with it, Milton. Am I not right, Agnew and
Jonas?"
"Absolutely!" Agnew exclaimed, while Jonas nodded, vigorously.
"So, beginning to-morrow morning, you're to do your share of eating,"
Enoch concluded, cheerfully.
But in spite of all efforts to keep a stiff upper lip, the night was
wretched. The rain fell in torrents. The only way to keep the fire
alight was by keeping it under the blanket shelter, and Milton was half
smothered with smoke. He insisted on the others going to sleep, but in
spite of their utter weariness, the men would not do this. Hunger made
them restless and the rain crept through their blankets. Enoch finally
gave up the attempt to sleep. He crouched by Milton, feeding the fire
and trying as best he could to ease the patient's misery of mind and
body.
It was long after midnight when Milton said, "Judge, I've been thinking
it over and I've come to a conclusion. I want you folks to go on for
help and leave me here."
"I don't like to hear you talk suicide, Milton." Enoch shook his head.
"As far as I'm concerned, I wouldn't consider such a suggestion for a
minute.
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