"Yes," he said emphatically, "she appears to have help enough. I must
think over her case and see her again to-morrow."

The old man's look suddenly darkened. "Ain't she better:"' he asked.

"She's not so much better that there's no danger of her being worse," the
Young Doctor replied decisively. "I certainly must see her to-morrow."

"Why," the old man remarked, waving his splayed hand up and down in a
gesture of emphasis, "she's never been sick. She's in and out of this
house all day. She goes about with her animals like as if she hadn't a
care or an ache or pain in the world. I've heard of women that fancied
they was sick because they hadn't too much to do, and was too well off,
and was treated too well. Highsterics, they call it. Lots of women,
lots and lots of them, would be glad to have such a home as this, and
would stay healthy in it."

The Young Docor felt he had made headway, and he let it go at that. It
was clear he was to be permitted to come to-morrow. "Yes, it's a fine
place," he replied convincingly. "Three thousand acres is a mighty big
place when you've got farm-land as well as cattle-grazing."

"It's nearly all good farm-land," answered the old man with decision.
"I don't believe much in ranching or cattle. I'm for the plough and
the wheat. There's more danger from cattle disease than from bad crops.
I'm getting rid of my cattle. I expect to sell a lot of 'em to-day."
An avaricious smile of satisfaction drew down the corners of his lips.
"I've got a good customer. He ought to be on the trail now." He drew
out a huge silver watch. "Yes, he's due. The party's a foreigner, I
believe. He lives over at Slow Down Ranch--got a French name."