"You're needed," explained the man. "Couple of kids." And he said to us: "Go ahead and tell him. I'm due at the mine." And off he trudged. We thanked him.
"What's the trouble?" asked the doctor.
"Appendicitis, we think. We're from the Harden ranch."
"Great Scott!" we heard the doctor mutter. Then he said. "All right, I'll be down." And we waited.
He came out of a side door and around upon the porch. He was buttoning his shirt.
"Who's got it? Not one of you?"
"No, another boy. He was sick on the trail and we took him to the ranch. Then we rode over here."
"What makes you think your friend has appendicitis?"
We described how the major acted and what Fitz had found out by feeling, and what we had done.
"Sounds suspicious," said the doctor, shortly. "You did the right thing, anyway. Do you want to go back with me? I'll start right over. Expect you're pretty tired."