This particular saloon had about wore out its welcome with me, so I was game for any enterprise, and I allowed a little patient-huntin' would prob'ly do me good. I drawed my six gun and looked her over.
"It's a new sport, but I bet I'll take to it," said I. "What d'you do, crease 'em or cripple 'em?"
"Pshaw! Put up that hearse ticket," Mike told me. "Us doctors don't take human life, we save it."
"I thought you said you was practisin' on Injuns."
"Injuns is human. For a fact! I've learned a heap in this business.
Not that I wouldn't bust one if I needed him, but it ain't necessary.
Come, I'll show you."
This here town had more heathens than whites in it, and before we'd gone a block I seen a buck Injun and his squaw idlin' along, lookin' into the store winders. The buck was a hungry, long-legged feller, and when we neared him Mike said to me:
"Hist! There's one. I'll slip up and get him from behind. You grab him if he runs."
This method of buildin' up a dental practice struck me as some strange, but Butters was a queer guy and this was sort of a rough town. When he got abreast of Mr. Lo, Mike reached out and garnered him by the neck. The Injun pitched some, but Mike eared him down finally, and when I come up I seen that one side of the lad's face was swelled up something fearful.
"Well, well," said I. "You've sure got the dentist's eye. You must have spied that swellin' a block away."
Mike nodded, then he said: "Poor feller! I'll bet it aches horrible. My office is right handy; let's get him in before the marshal sees us."