The K-10 ranch-house was a long adobe structure, situated on the edge of a mesa, which gave a fairly good view of the sweeping expanse of Hawk Hole. About a third of the house was used as a kitchen and dining-room, while the other two thirds was a combination living-quarters and bunkhouse.
Behind the house was a long series of low sheds and several corrals. Baldy introduced Doctor Meline to all the boys, except the Mexican cook, José, whose English was limited to profanity.
“I’ve seen you before, Doc,” said “Two Fingers” Kohler, a hard-faced cowpuncher, who had lost three fingers from his left hand in an argument with a Mexican.
“Have you?” smiled the big man.
“Yeah, in Frisco,” nodded Kohler. “You was standin’ on a platform, under one of them gas’line lights, sellin’ some kind of damned remedy. Yo’re kinda slick with cards, ain’tcha? By golly, yuh shore done some cute tricks, but I don’t s’pose that medicine would cure anythin’.”
Meline flushed slightly and lighted a cigar. He had been the prince of faker doctors until the police had stopped him from peddling a quack nostrum, a guaranteed cure-all, which was probably made from colored water and quinine.
The newspapers had taken up the case, and the resultant advertising had caused Doctor Meline to return to his big home out near the Presidio, where he proceeded to forget that he ever hawked cheap medicine with a ballyhoo, and to engage in a business of big returns with less publicity.
“Did yuh hear anythin’ from the Tumblin’ H today, Jack?” asked Baldy.
“Not a thing,” replied Baum. “I seen Hartley and Stevens in town, but they was only there a few minutes.”