The grey light of dawn was stealing rapidly up from the east when the messenger, Burt, was awakened by the negro attendant and told that it was time to be up. To arise and dress, for a man of his habits, was not a work occupying much time; in less than ten minutes he was seated in the kitchen, doing ample justice to the well-spread table before him. And by the time the doctor was ready to depart, Burt was in the saddle by his side, and together they started on their ride to the Ranch.
The atmosphere being clear, the view up the valley along which they journeyed was uninterrupted. Where the river ran there was a thick and tangled line of vegetation, but the absence of rain had reduced it to the proportions of a very modest stream, flowing sluggishly within narrow limits. As they reached higher ground they found it everywhere thickly covered with the short crisp variety of grass known as "buffalo grass," forming excellent pasture both in winter and summer.
Familiarity may not always breed contempt, because of the beauty of things with which long association has rendered one familiar, nevertheless it induces indifference. And in the case of our two friends—Fisherton and Burt—the scenes through which they were passing had been so frequently viewed by them, that it was with a species of indifference they rapidly pushed on, intent upon accomplishing their journey with as little delay as possible.
Reaching the farm just as Ranger and his household were about to sit down to breakfast, they were fully prepared, after rising so early and their long and rather exhausting ride, to join him at the morning meal.
When seated at the breakfast-table, the doctor inquired about the patient he had come to see, and was informed that he had passed a very restless night, with fitful intervals of sleep, and seemed to be in great pain.
"When your messenger arrived, it happened, unfortunately," said Dr. Fisherton, "that I was out. A mounted messenger from the Pleasant Hills had that morning arrived to say I was wanted at Nat Langham's Store, where a free fight had resulted in one man being shot dead and two others severely wounded, and I was unable to get back until eleven at night, when I found him waiting to bring me here."
"Ah, I see!" added Ranger; "and of course you naturally felt it was too late to start out then to come here."
"That is just it, my friend. Your man wanted me to do so; but I decided that, rather than arrive here in the middle of the night, it would be better to take a few hours' rest, start with the dawn, and get here, as we have done, in broad daylight."
"Quite right, doctor; and when you have finished breakfast, I will take you to the patient, and let you see for yourself if you think the delay has done him any harm."
"I trust not," was the doctor's only comment.