"I don't know. But if your wife—"
The rustic shook his head. "No. You wouldn't do for Alviry. She said to get Doc. Parker, and a sunstroke ain't going to change her none. But if she likes your looks she'll probably try you next time. Tumble fond of experiments is Alviry—hi! giddap!" He slapped his horse more forcibly with the loose reins and settled into, mournful silence.
"Going to put up at the Imperial?" he asked after a long and peaceful pause.
"I want to put up somewhere where I can get a good meal and get it quickly."
The mournful Jehu shook his head gloomily.
"You won't get that at the Imperial."
"Where had I better go?"
"There ain't any other place to go—not to speak of."
The doctor let fall a fiery exclamation.
"What say?"