"Of course you believe it! That's because your mind is untrained, and you don't know anything of the ways of the world."
"You just leave my mind alone, doc. It ain't hurtin' you, I guess. You talk as if I hadn't any more brains than a sheep."
Nash grinned, and rubbed his long hands briskly together. He enjoyed this sort of thing.
"Right you are. You believe Jim's story—and I don't. What I think is this: Jim Harley marked the card, dealt it to you, and then invented the yarn. He is trying to scare you away—away from fooling around his sister."
"You just let his sister alone, doc! And mind yer own business, too!"
"Keep cool, my boy. Well, he scares you a bit with his story. Then he has a talk to Dick Goodine. He knows Dick and you are not very good friends. So he fixes Dick, and Dick fixes your canoe pole—and there you are! Jim and Dick do the busting, and I do the mending. What do you think of that?"
"Durned foolishness!" retorted David. "Maybe Goodine done it; but Jim didn't set him to it. I guess I know Jim Harley a durn sight better'n you do."
"Oh, yes! You are a devilish clever chap, David—in your own opinion. Just the same, my smart young friend, take the hint from me and stop thinking about Nell Harley. You are not wanted 'round that vicinity, and if Jim can't scare you away with his card trick and his silly story, he'll scare you with something else."
David Marsh was raging; but he was helpless in the bunk, with a broken arm to remember. He swore like the proverbial trooper—and Doctor Nash sat and smoked, with his sneering grin broad on his fat face. He did not say a word in reply to the woodsman's tirade. At last David lay back weakly, breathless, and empty of oaths. Nash re-filled his pipe.
"Think it over quietly," he said. "Are the red marks after you? Or is Dick Goodine after you, on his own trick? Or is Jim Harley working a game on you? Think it over, Davy, and don't swear at your friends."