“Not many, for very few have heard of it,” he replied.

“I suppose you keep a record of them.”

“Only their names—­we can’t follow them up outside the army, to see how it works.  Still, when they come to us as you and Mr. Jameson have done we are perfectly willing to vaccinate them.  The Army Medical Corps takes the position that if it is good for the army it is good for civil life, and as long as only a few civilians apply we are perfectly willing to do it for a fee covering the cost.”

“And would you let me see the list?”

“Certainly.  You may look it over in a moment.”

Kennedy glanced hurriedly through the short list of names, pulled out his notebook, made an entry, and handed the list back.  “Thank you, Major.”

Bisbee Hall was a splendid place set in the heart of a great park whose area was measured by square miles rather than by acres.  But Craig did not propose to stay there, for he arranged for accommodations in a near-by town, where we were to take our meals also.  It was late when we arrived, and we spent a restless night, for the inoculation “took.”  It wasn’t any worse than a light attack of the grippe, and in the morning we were both all right again, after the passing of what is called the “negative phase.”  I, for one, felt much safer.

The town was very much excited over the epidemic at the hall, and if I had been wondering why Craig wanted me along my wonder was soon set at rest.  He had me scouring the town and country looking up every case or rumour of typhoid for miles around.  I made the local weekly paper my headquarters, and the editor was very obliging.  He let me read all his news letters from his local correspondent at every crossroads.  I waded through accounts of new calves and colts, new fences and barns, who “Sundayed” with his brother, etc., and soon had a list of all the cases in that part of the country.  It was not a long one, but it was scattered.  After I had traced them out, following Kennedy’s instructions, they showed nothing, except that they were unrelated to the epidemic at the hall.

Meanwhile, Kennedy was very busy there.  He had a microscope and slides and test-tubes and chemicals for testing things, and I don’t know what all, for there was not time to initiate me into all the mysteries.  He tested the water from the various driven wells and in the water-tank, and the milk from the cows;—­he tried to find out what food had come in from outside, though there was practically none, for the hall was self-supporting.  There was no stone he left unturned.

When I rejoined him that night he was clearly perplexed.  I don’t think my report decreased his perplexity, either.