Nearer and nearer the mare galloped towards the township, and the doctor, whose house stood at the edge of the village, saw them coming.
He was in a good humour. That morning he had completed a difficult operation to his entire satisfaction, although the patient had alluded to him as a 'blundering old idiot,' and wondered why such men were permitted to 'adorn' the medical profession.
Dr Tom was used to strong language, Swamp Creek was famous for it, in fact the Creek had almost a language of its own. The atmosphere probably had something to do with the warmth of the expressions used by the inhabitants.
Dr Tom looked at the mare and her rider, and said to himself:
'That's Jim Dennis. Wonder what the devil he's up to, tearing about the country like a madman in this heat. He's on a "jag," I guess. Well, he'll get no assistance here, I can do with all the "jag mixture" myself.'
Jim Dennis pulled the exhausted mare up with a jerk, and, springing out of the saddle, rushed up the steps of the doctor's house.
'He's dying, Dr Tom, the little chap's dying. Come at once. For God's sake man hurry! We haven't a moment to lose. You must save him. You can save him. You will save him! He's all I have in the world.'
'What, little Willie!' exclaimed Dr Tom. 'What's got hold of him?'
'Fever, or something. He's raving. Don't stand talking. Hurry up! Get out your buggy and horses. Never mind if you drive 'em to death. I'll pay for 'em. Only get there in time.'
'I'll be ready in a crack, Jim,' said Dr Tom, as he went inside, and, in a very short space of time, the buggy, with a decent pair of horses hitched to it, was at the door.