FRIGHTENED HORSES
Bud Merkel lost no time in getting connected, through the telephone, with the only physician in Los Pompan. Old Doc Taylor, the medical man was called, though he was not very old. It was more a term of affection.
"Our Chink cook is poisoned!" Bud explained. "Can you come out quick?"
"Pronto!" was the illuminating reply and then there was nothing to do save wait for Dr. Taylor's arrival.
"He's got a flivver," announced Snake who, with Yellin' Kid, had paid more than one visit to town since arriving at Dot and Dash, thereby learning considerable about the place and its inhabitants. "It won't take long for the doc to get here."
"But can't we do anything, meanwhile, for that poor Chink?" asked Nort.
"Guess there isn't much hope for him if he drank all that stuff," remarked Bud in gloomy tones. "Though we might try to help him get it out of his stomach."
"How you goin' to do that?" Snake demanded.
"By giving him an emetic," Bud answered. "Mustard and water's good, I've heard. Come on—we got to try something," and he turned to his cousins as the most likely ones to be of service.
They found poor Fah Moo rushing around the somewhat narrow confines of his kitchen. The Chinese was still yelling and holding both yellow hands across the pit of his stomach. On a table, amid pots, pans and dishes, were the three bottles of the Elixer of Life. Two were completely emptied and the third had but a little fluid remaining in it.