secured by the bottom button
alone. There was a row of buttons, but only one was used. This left
exposed to fullest view a shirt front which had doubtless been clean
when the garment to which it belonged had been first put on, but which
was now flecked and streaked with yellow stains which showed plainly
that its wearer used tobacco. A derby hat of a past age was on his head,
and he carried a medicine case much battered from long use. His right
leg was shorter than his left--rheumatism had done it--and this
accounted for his peculiar gait. He stopped in blank surprise for a
moment when he saw his erstwhile patient sitting up and eating, then the
vials of his wrath exploded.

"What in the devil do you mean by getting up, young man?" he thundered.
"Get back in bed! You'll die! You won't live till night!"

He placed his case on the floor, took a handkerchief from his pocket and
removed his hat, and fiercely took a turn or two up and down the room,
mopping his head and face as he went. It was well for Glenning that a
friend had prepared him for this visit.

"Pardon me for not rising to meet you, Doctor Kale," he said, feeling
his risibles stirring, and endeavoring to maintain a steady countenance.
"But I feel much better, thanks to your attention."

"Any fool could have washed the dirt off and stuck court plaster on
you," growled the caller, still belligerent. "How do you know my name,
and who told you you might get up?"

"The young man who spent the night with me told me you would call this
morning, and I got tired lying in bed with nothing the matter with me--"

"Nothing the matter with you! Why, you're burned, and cut, and thumped,
and bruised. It's a wonder the Lord let you off alive for being such an
idiot. It seems to me you'd have had better sense than to go in a
burning stable just to pull out one good-for-nothing horse which don't
earn its hay!"

"Circumstances were such that I had no other choice," answered Glenning,
a bit distantly.

"Circumstances!" sniffed Doctor Kale. "Yes, I heard about the
circumstances, and when you've lived as long as I have, you won't butt
your head into a little hell every time a pretty girl winks!"

The blood rushed to John's face, and even Dillard's warning did not
serve to check his tongue.

"She didn't wink!" he retorted, rather hotly. "But she asked for help,
and I gave it to her, as any man would!"

The caller cast a sidelong glance at the figure by the table, then
st