"I hate to ask you to take him out to my hospital," said Fox apologetically, "but I don't know of anything better. I'll telephone them before you can get there, and I'll be out within an hour. I don't think he's seriously hurt."
So they bundled the man in, and Jane drove off, rather crestfallen. For his part, he thought that he ought to take Sally home first, at least. The man still lurking in the shadows hurled vile epithets and obscenities and ran after Jane.
Fox laughed a little, nervously. "Hope he has a pleasant chase. He'll hardly catch Spencer." Eugene was already at the corner. "My first patient, Sally, although the Retreat is not open yet. This man is not the kind of patient I shall hope to have, but it seemed better to send him there and avoid publicity. We can take good care of him. Hello!"
There was some kind of an uproar just around the corner. It lasted only a moment and then Eugene came driving back, alone.
"That man of yours," he said, pulling up short, "recovered very suddenly, rolled out, and the pair of them ran down the street like scared rabbits. I didn't chase them, for I thought that you would probably be glad enough to get rid of him."
"I am," Fox replied, with evident relief. "He can't be much hurt. I'm much obliged to you, Spencer."
"Shan't I take Sally home? Or there's room for both of you, if you don't mind a little crowding."
"We will walk home, thank you, Jane," said Sally, with the finality he had come to expect. "I haven't seen Fox for a long time and I have a lot to say to him."
So Eugene, muttering something under his breath, made a very short turn, in which process he very nearly tipped over, and gave his horse a cut with the whip. The animal, which was not expecting this and did not deserve it, gave a bound and they were gone.
Sally chuckled. "Display of temper on Mr. Spencer's part," Fox observed, "wholly uncalled for. Bad for the horse, too. I judge that he is not the equal of Everett as a horse trainer."