"Is she a schoolma'am?" Happy Jack's distaste for schoolma'ams dated
from his tempestuous introduction to the A B C's, with their daily
accompaniment of a long, thin ruler.

"No, she ain't a schoolma'am. She's a darn sight worse. She's a
doctor."

"Aw, come off!" Cal Emmett was plainly incredulous."

"That's right. Old Man said she's just finished taking a course uh
medicine--what'd yuh call that?"

"Consumption, maybe--or snakes." Weary smiled blandly across the table.

"She got a diploma, though. Now where do you get off at?"

"Yeah--that sure means she's a doctor," groaned Cal.

"By golly, she needn't try t' pour any dope down ME," cried a short,
fat man who took life seriously--a man they called Slim, in fine irony.

"Gosh, I'd like to give her a real warm reception," said Jack Bates,
who had a reputation for mischief. "I know them Eastern folks, down t'
the ground. They think cow-punchers wear horns. Yes, they do. They
think we're holy terrors that eat with our six-guns beside our plates--
and the like of that. They make me plum tired. I'd like to--wish we
knew her brand."

"I can tell you that," said Chip, cynically. "There's just two bunches