"How do you reach Sweetapple Cove?" I asked him.
"There will be a little schooner in a few days," he answered.
"I am a physician," I announced, "and am looking for exactly that kind of a practice."
We were strolling on the deck at this time. Mr. Barnett turned quickly and grasped my arm.
"There is hardly a dollar there for you," he said. "No sane man would come to such a place to practice. And there is a little hardship in that sort of work. You don't realize it."
"I am under the impression that it is just the place for me," I told him.
"There is really good salmon fishing in Sweetapple River," he began, excitedly, "and you can get caribou within a day's walk, and there are lots of trout, and…"
I could see that he was eager to find some redeeming points for
Sweetapple Cove.
"Behold the tempter," I laughed.
"Dear me! Of course I did not mean to tempt you," he said, flushing like a girl. "And I'm afraid you would have to live in some fisherman's house, and to furnish medicines as well as your services. Of course they might pay you something if the fishing happened to be good. It sometimes is, you know."