Overworked and exhausted, worn out with lack of sleep, Dr. McDermott stopped one day at Angella Loring's ranch.
The two girls were coming in from the field, Angella in the democrat with the baby, and Nettie on foot, driving home a team of work horses. They had been plowing and repairing the broken fences, for undaunted by the destruction of their crop, they were pluckily on the land again, preparing for the next year's seeding.
Dr. McDermott, his bag on the step by him, watched them as they watered and fed their horses and put up for the night. Then, each taking a handle of the baby's basket, they came through the barnyard to the house.
For the first time since she had known her doctor friend, he failed to greet Nettie with his cheery:
"And how's my lass today?"
Gaunt and haggard, he stood up and scrutinized them gravely before grunting:
"Hm! All right, eh? Not touched. Well, sit down, girls. I've thot to tell you will make your hearts a wee bit heavy."
Dr. McDermott opened his black bag and took out some pills and a large bottle of disinfectant, which he set on the steps. Angella, the baby in her arms, her brows slightly drawn, looked down at the lined face of the doctor, and saw he had brought bad news.
"Let's go in," she said. "You look as if a cup of tea won't come amiss. Let me pass. I'll make it at once."
"You'll hear me through first, and I've no time for tea. There's a bit of sickness running about the country. 'Tis the same they've had in the old land. You'll put this disinfectant about your place, and on your person, and in case—in case of certain symptoms, you'll go straight to bed, and you'll stay there till I tell you when to get up, and you'll begin then to take the pills I'm leaving. What's more, you'll send Jake at once for me."