"I'll catch him coming back," she said, "if I have to tie binding twine across the road to tangle up Pleurisy's long legs. He's on his way to Cowan's, I know. Ab Cowan has quinsy. Never mind, Thursa, we'll get him. I hope now that the old doctor is too full to come—oh, no I don't either, I just hope he's away and Dr. Clay will have it done before he gets here."
When Tom arrived in Millford he found a great many people thronging the streets. One of the Ontario's harvesters' excursions had arrived a few hours before, and the "Huron and Bruce" boys were already making themselves seen and heard.
Tom went at once to Dr. Barner's office and found that the doctor was out making calls, but would be back in an hour. Not at all displeased at having some time to spend, Tom went back to the gaily lighted front street. The crowds of men who went in and out of the hotels seemed to promise some excitement.
Inside of the Grand Pacific, a gramophone querulously sang "Any Rags, Any Bones, Any Bottles To-day" to a delighted company of listeners.
When Tom entered he was received with the greatest cordiality by the bartender and others.
"Here is life and good-fellowship," Tom thought to himself, "here's the place to have a good time."
"Is your father back yet, Tom?" the bartender asked as he served a line of customers.
"He'll come up Monday night, I expect," Tom answered, rather proud of the attention he was receiving.
The bartender pushed a box of cigars toward him.
"Have a cigar, Tom," he said.