“‘You’ve got the bedside manners of a Piute medicine man,’ says I. ‘And I wish you’d go away and let me die a natural death. I’m sorry I sent for you.’
“‘I’ve a mind to,’ says George, ‘for nobody cares whether you live or die. But now I’ve been tricked into coming, I might as well stay until this little attack of indigestion or nettle rash or whatever it is, passes away.’
“Two weeks afterward, when I was beginning to get around again, the doctor laughed and said he was sure that my friend’s keeping me mad all the time did more than his drugs to cure me.
“So that’s the way George and me was friends. There wasn’t any sentiment about it—it was just give and take, and each of us knew that the other was ready for the call at any time.
“I remember, once, I played a sort of joke on George, just to try him. I felt a little mean about it afterward, because I never ought to have doubted he’d do it.
“We was both living in a little town in the San Luis valley, running some flocks of sheep and a few cattle. We were partners, but, as usual, we didn’t live together. I had an old aunt, out from the East, visiting for the summer, so I rented a little cottage. She soon had a couple of cows and some pigs and chickens to make the place look like home. George lived alone in a little cabin half a mile out of town.
“One day a calf that we had, died. That night I broke its bones, dumped it into a coarse sack and tied it up with wire. I put on an old shirt, tore a sleeve ’most out of it, and the collar half off, tangled up my hair, put some red ink on my hands and spashed some of it over my shirt and face. I must have looked like I’d been having the fight of my life. I put the sack in a wagon and drove out to George’s cabin. When I halloed, he came out in a yellow dressing-gown, a Turkish cap and patent leather shoes. George always was a great dresser.
“I dumped the bundle to the ground.
“Sh-sh!’ says I, kind of wild in my way. ‘Take that and bury it, George, out somewhere behind your house—bury it just like it is. And don—’
“‘Don’t get excited,’ says George. ‘And for the Lord’s sake go and wash your hands and face and put on a clean shirt.’