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Page 57
The trio stared at the approaching buckboard which contained two
occupants. "Sure is," said Redmond, "out to some case west of here, I
suppose."
They hailed the physician cheerily, as presently he drew up to the
detachment. "Fwhere away, Docthor?" queried Slavin. "Will ye not shtop
an' take dinner wid us, yu' an' Lanky? 'Tis rarely we see yez in these
parts now."
"Eh, sorry!" remarked that gentleman, climbing out of the rig and
stretching his cramped limbs, "got to get on to Horton's, though. One of
their children's sick. Thanks, all the same, Sergeant." Glancing round
at his teamster he continued in lowered tones, "There's a little matter
I'd like to speak to you fellows about."
"Sure!" agreed Slavin, quickly. "Come inside thin, Docthor."
The party entered the detachment and, seating themselves, gazed
enquiringly at their visitor. For a space he surveyed them reflectively,
a perturbed expression upon his usually genial countenance. His first
words startled them.
"It's about your J.P., Mr. Gully," he began. "This incident, mind, is
closed absolutely--as far as he and I are concerned; but, under the
circumstances, which to say the least struck me as being mighty peculiar,
I--well! . . . I don't think it's any breach of medical etiquette on my
part telling you about it.
"For some time past now I've been treating Gully for insomnia. Man first
came to me seemingly on the verge of a nervous breakdown through it.
"I prescribed him some pretty strong opiates--strong as I dare--and for a
time he seemed to get relief. But a couple of days ago he came around
and--my God! . . . Say! if I hadn't known him for a man who drinks very
little I'd have sworn he was in the D.T.'s."
The doctor's rotund figure stiffened slightly in his seat, and his genial
face hardened to a degree that was in itself a revelation to his
audience. Without any semblance of bravado he continued quietly, "I hope
I possess as much physical pluck as most men--I guess you fellows aren't
aware of it, but many years back I too wore the Queen's uniform--Surgeon
in the Navy. I served in that Alexandria affair, under Charlie Beresford.
"Well, as I was saying, . . . Gully came into my surgery that day,
raving like a madman. He's a big, powerful devil, as you know. I'll
confess I was a bit dubious about him--watched him pretty close for a few
minutes, for he acted as if he might start running amok. 'I can't
sleep!' he kept yelling at me, 'I can't sleep, I tell you! . . . That
dope you're giving me's no good. . . . Christ Almighty! give me a shot
of cocaine, Cox, or morphine, and get me a supply of the stuff and a
needle, will you? I'll pay you any amount!'
"Naturally, I refused, I'm not the man to go laying myself open to
anything like that. Well! Good God! The next minute the man came for
me like a lunatic--clutching out at me with those great hands of his and
with the most murderous expression on his face you can imagine. I backed
away to the medicine cabinet and caught hold of a pestle and told him I'd
brain him with it if he touched me. I threatened I'd lay an information
against him for assault, and that seemed to quiet him down. He began to
expostulate then, and eventually broke down and apologised to me--in the
most abject fashion. Begged me to overlook his loss of control, and all
that. Of course I let up on him then. A local scandal between two men
in our position wouldn't do at all. I gave him a d----d good calling
down, though, and finally advised him to go away somewhere for a complete
rest and change. But he wouldn't agree to that--seemed worried over his
ranch. Said he'd worked up a pretty good outfit and couldn't think of
leaving his stock in somebody else's hands at this time of the
year--couldn't afford it in fact. Anyway--that's his look-out. But, as
a matter of fact, if that man doesn't take my advice, why . . . he's
going to collapse. I know the symptoms only too well. That's the curse
of men living alone on these homesteads--brooding, and worrying their
heads off. It seems to get them all eventually in--"
Breaking off abruptly he glanced at his watch. "Getting late!" he
ejaculated, jumping up, "I must be getting on to that case."
"Docthor!" said Slavin, reflectively, "'tis a shtrange story ye've been
tellin' us. Ye'll be comin' back this way, I suppose--lather in th' day?"
The physician nodded.
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