He actually refused the greenbacks his visitor offered. Before Durgan had summoned the turnkey, 'Dolphus had curled himself up on the pallet in all the appearance of a swoon.
Durgan went to the "hotel" where he had left his horse. It was a wooden house with scanty furniture, all its many doors and windows open to the street. Two old women sat in one doorway, ceaselessly rubbing their gums with snuff—a local vice. Three rickety children were playing in the barroom. The landlord was exercising his thoroughbred horses in the yard. The horses were beautiful creatures, neither rickety nor vicious.
A valuable microscope and a case of surgical instruments stood on a table, surrounded by the ash of cigars. They were the property of the country doctor, a noted surgeon, who was satisfied to make his home in this fantastic inn. The wife of the hotel-keeper, who always wore a blue sun-bonnet whether in or out of the house, brought Durgan a glass of the worst beer he had ever tasted, and delicious gingerbread hot from the oven.
When Durgan had found the doctor and made sure that he would go at once and better the mulatto's condition, he set out on his homeward journey. He had said to the medical man, "Whatever happens, you must not let the fellow die till I come back."
The answer had been, "I won't do that."
Chapter XXIV THE WOMAN WITH A SECRET
Durgan had ridden down the hills in rather leisurely fashion; now he urged his horse to speed. He had come uncertain how to meet the issue of the day; now he was eager to forestall the issue of the next.
He had brought from his interview with the dying prisoner a strong impression that the poor fellow had more mind and purpose than he had supposed, and that he certainly had some scheme on hand from the development of which he expected excitement and some lively satisfaction.