“I’m going to any old point in the South,” was the answer. “You see,” explained the doctor, “I didn’t do very well at the town I set up my office in, so I took my instruments and started to walk to the next place.
“I was having rather a pleasant time of it when hailed from the Rambler. It seems that there had been a row on board, and that one of the gang had received a bullet through the lungs.
“Of course I did what I could for the man; but that was not much. He died just before I was put off the boat.”
“And was buried on the river bank,” explained Paul. “That must have been about dark.”
“It seems longer ago than that,” laughed the surgeon. “Anyway, it appears to me that I’ve been walking in the rain ever since the Deluge! Now I haven’t got any more tools to work with than a rabbit! And the scamps took what little money I had with me, too!”
“That is easily fixed,” said Rube, producing his roll. “Just have one of the boys go good for it, and tell me how much you want!”
“I’ll go good for $10,” declared Case. “The doctor has certainly earned that much.”
Rube peeled off a bank note and passed it over to the surgeon, who took it hesitatingly.
“But this is a $20,” he explained.
“That’s all right,” Rube announced. “You may pay me the other $10 when you get on your feet.” The surgeon expressed his thanks, and Rube put away his roll and asked Case to slow down so he could board the Esmeralda.