"If I ever befriend a vagabond again, may I be shot" said he. "He must be got out of here at once, for I might catch it myself. It is a pretty rough thing to do," he added, as he hurried toward Leon's door, "but self-preservation is the first law of nature. Say, pilgrim," he shouted, as he entered the room where his clerk lay tossing and moaning on his bed, "you climb out o' that and waltz!"
"Sir?" said Leon faintly.
"'Sir!'" yelled the trader. "Get up and clear out! Do you understand that?"
"Oh, yes, I understand it; but what have I done? I couldn't possibly get up. I couldn't stand."
"You must, and you will!" roared the trader, flourishing his fists in the air. "The steward says you ought to be kicked out of the fort directly, and that shows you've got something that's catching. Now, you get up and dust. Start this minute, or I'll take you by the collar and drag you out."
This threat put a little life and energy into Leon. He arose to his feet, and although he was so weak that he could scarcely maintain an upright position, he succeeded in putting on his clothes.
Then he picked up his overcoat and staggered through the store and out at the door, the trader shouting after him:
"Now, you go over to the other side of the fort and stay there. Don't let me catch you on this part of the parade-ground again."
Poor Leon! All his hopes of seeing home and friends again were gone now.