Charley turned at the ranger’s cry.  He comprehended the situation at a glance.  “Quick!” he cried, springing to the ranger’s side.  “Give me your arm.”

He jerked back the ranger’s sleeve, disclosing two dark spots on the back of the wrist where the fangs had punctured the skin.  Drops of blood were oozing from them.  Charley whipped out his knife and without hesitation drew the keen blade several times across the ranger’s wrist.  Blood began to flow down the hand.  Putting his lips to the wound, Charley sucked out mouthful after mouthful of blood, which he spat on the ground.

“Now squeeze your wrist tight just above the bite,” said Charley.  “Stop the circulation of blood if you can.”

Like a flash Charley picked up the dog leash and tied an end of it around the ranger’s arm, close to the shoulder, drawing it so tight that the ranger winced.  He cut the dangling end and took a second turn just above the ranger’s elbow.  Then he made a third turn half-way down the forearm.  With little sticks he twisted the cords still tighter.  Then he jerked out his hypodermic syringe, which he carried already filled with fluid, and thrusting the needle into the bleeding arm, injected the permanganate into the wound.

Meantime, the ranger stood silent, his face pale, his jaws set courageously.  “Where did you learn to do all that?” he finally asked Charley, with evident admiration.  “You go about it like a doctor.”

“When the Wireless Patrol was in camp at Fort Brady,” replied Charley, “one of the fellows was bitten by a copperhead.  Dr. Hardy had already drilled us in first-aid and we knew just what to do.  You bet none of us will ever forget.”

“I shall owe my life to you,” said Mr. Morton.  “That is, I shall if——­”

“There’s no if about it,” interrupted Charley with determination.  “We got most of the poison out of your arm.  I’ll bet on that.  What’s left may make you sick, but it can’t kill you.  What we’ve got to do is to prevent that poison from reaching your heart, at least in any quantity.  You sit down against this tree and keep quiet so your heart will beat as slow as possible.  In about twenty minutes loosen this bottom cord.  Loosen the middle one after another twenty minutes, and open the third at the end of an hour.  That’s all I know how to do.  Thank God, we’ve got a wireless here!  Now I’m going to get it up as quick as possible.”

He tore open the pasteboard boxes and took out one instrument after another, coupling up the wires quickly and skilfully.  Then he seized the little axe, chopped some branches for spreaders, fastened the aerial wires to them, and added other wires to suspend them by.  Quickly he selected two trees for supports, and climbing up first one and then the other, soon had his aerial dangling directly above the fire trail.  He coupled up his lead-in wire and ran his eye over the outfit.  Everything was complete.  Only the power was lacking.  With the axe he pried off