“This is all.” As Eastman answered his own look was averted. “Our new physician’s due to-day—Doctor Fowler, of San Francisco.”
“I—I see.” A surge of red deepened the tan on the doctor’s face. “I s’pose you won’t need me no more.”
“How much do I owe you?” There was dismissal in Eastman’s tone.
The other closed the canvas case and picked up his hat. Then he leaned over the sleeper for a moment. When he started slowly toward the door the spring was gone from his step. He seemed not to have heard the question.
“Will ten be satisfactory?” Eastman had run a hand into a pocket. Now he held a goldpiece.
The doctor turned. A troubled light was in the grey eyes. “Five’d be a fair charge for Blue Top,” he said. As the smaller coin was proffered him he took it, bowed and went out.
Someone followed him—he did not look back to see who. But as he reached the front door his eyes fell upon a photograph that lay on a table beside the hatrack. It was the photograph of a child—a handsome, fair-haired little boy in gingham rompers, standing on a garden path amid chrysanthemums that reached above his tumbled curls. “Is that your baby?” asked the doctor, and, with the inquiry, turned to the one behind.
It was not Eastman, but the Chinese servant who had followed him out. As he opened the door he made no reply.
Bobby was waiting dutifully at the steps; and when he was headed down the mountain he went single-footing away eagerly, his bit-chains rattling with his swaying gait. But the doctor rode with his chin on his breast and his soft hat pulled to his brows. And when a bend in the road brought the shingled bungalow near, instead of looking at it he turned his face toward the long, level valley. In the distance, on the tree-strewn river-bottom, was a cluster of white specks—the town he had left in the early afternoon. He had come from it hopefully: he was returning unsuccessful. But his jaw was set resolutely.
It was past sundown when he reined at the gate leading to Bobby’s corral. Letty had seen him ride up. Now she came hurrying across the garden toward him. “Is it good news?” she called.