"There he is!" grumbled Doctor Kale, starting on a tour around the walls of the room, sniffing his wrath, and ignoring the necessity of any sort of an introduction.
"I want a doctor! I ain't sick 'n' my fam'ly ain't sick, but Dink Scribbens took with the small-pox las' night 'n' me 'n' my folks has to pass his door ever' time we come to town! That ol' hippity-hop (indicating the still marching figure of Doctor Kale) 's skeered to go, though he never caught anything in his life!"
"I'm not afraid!" promptly fired back Doctor Kale. "I've waited on small-pox, chicken-pox, rosiola, measles, and every skin disease you ever heard of, but I'm not going to give my time to these damned paupers! Paupers 've got no business gettin' sick!"
"Are these people—paupers?" asked John, addressing the question to the third man, who up to this time had maintained silence through necessity. He was a large, stout individual, bearing plainly upon his face the marks of conviviality. He came forward heavily, and held out his hand.
"I'm Joe Colver, county judge," he said, dragging his words as though each was anchored in his chest. "Uncle Billy Hoonover come in a while ago sayin' the Scribbenses had small-pox. I don't know whether he knows what he's talkin' about or not, but they live in our county and it's our duty to investigate it and if necessary put a quarantine on 'em." He smiled laboriously as he continued. "We usually give cases like this to the young fellers. The old hosses git above it, you know. If you'll go and take charge I'll promise the county'll allow you a reasonable fee. And you'll save Uncle Billy Hoonover a fit of some kind if you'll go pretty quick."
"Fit!" shrilled Uncle Billy, prancing up and down. "Who wouldn't have a fit with the ketchin' small-pox under his nose? Tell me that?"
"I'll go, judge," said Glenning; "where do they live?"
"Under my nose!" reiterated Uncle Billy. "A crick 'n' a narrer fiel' 'twixt them 'n' me! The win' could blow it right in my door if it set right!"
Doctor Kale had at last brought himself up, and he now cast a withering look of scorn upon the excited layman. He was plainly too full for words, for in a moment he clapped his hat on his head and bustled out with it riding his ears.
"Old Kale's a caution," commented the judge, laughing lazily, "but he's got plenty o' doctor sense. He's got the cream o' the practice about here. The best people want 'im, and they'll wait for 'im if they ain't pretty bad off. I knew you was on a cold trail, Uncle Billy, when you struck Kale."