“That’s what they call me,” answered the physician, cheerfully. Then he took a calm whiff of that pipe, and deliberately sat down in a rocking-chair.
Smith would have remarked that the weather was fine, but he remembered that the weather is always pleasant in San Francisco. So, he switched off on an other subject—the subject—and said:
“Doctor, I have simply come in to ask for a little information. I am a stranger here, and I suppose you can tell me what I desire to know.”
“What is that?”
“I wish information as to the means of gaining admittance to the City Hospital.”
“Why do you want to go to the hospital?”
“Because, I am quite unwell, have no immediate business prospects, and am nearly broke.”
“What seems to be the matter with you?”
“Something like ague.”
“Have you come through Panama lately?”