"You've caught a bad cold, Lieutenant."
"Yes." Terry snuffled and drew his handkerchief. "It was awfully damp in here last night."
"Damp? How could it be damp in an open shack this time of year?"
"Well, it was. A regular mist!" He sneezed explosively, then took a few short turns about the little hut in search of the cause of his malady.
The doctor watched him, interested. Bending suddenly, Terry held aloft the perspiration-soaked nightshirt which the doctor affected.
"Eureka!" he exclaimed, dramatically, then dodged the shoe the hoaxed doctor let drive at his head.
After an hour's investigation of conditions in the village the doctor was convinced that he could now handle the situation alone and insisted upon Terry's returning home. His parting injunctions were worried.
"Now Lieutenant, you watch yourself closely for several days and if you display fever symptoms, you send for me."
After Terry had ridden down the river bank and into the long homeward trail, the doctor's overworked conscience smote him hard:
"Hell's bells! I never thanked him for coming!"