“They're not poison,” he smiled, opening it and offering the cigarettes to Philip. “I have them made especially for myself.” A sound outside the door made him pause with a lighted match between his fingers. “How about dogs and Indian?” he asked. “May they come in?”
Philip began hobbling toward the door.
“So exciting to meet a man from home that I forgot all about 'em,” he exclaimed.
With three or four quick steps the doctor overtook him and caught him by the arm.
“Just a moment,” he said quickly. “How far is Fort Smith from here?”
“About sixty miles.”
“Do you suppose I could get there without—his assistance?”
“If you're willing to bunk here for a few days—yes,” said Philip. “I'm going on to Fort Smith myself as soon as I am able to walk.”
An expression of deep relief came into the doctor's eyes.
“That's just what I want, Steele,” he exclaimed, unfeignedly delighted at Philip's suggestion. “I'm not well, and I require a little rest. Call him in.”