Page:Poet Lore, volume 34, 1923.djvu/534

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514
THE PISTOL OF THE BEG

hers is the stubbornest case that has come before local practice. Luckily, however, Harshaw is in no danger of becoming an orphan. (Takes thermometer.) Hm, a little fever certainly. As things stand, I advise resolutely that my lord go to bed, and preferably right here in his own cozy room, at once. I shall send that busy body from the other side to make your bed.

Burris (Somewhat more interested)—To bed? What are you thinking of, now in the midst of harvest!

Doctor.—Of course, if you had broken your neck yesterday, your good for nothing men would let the oats and barley rot in the field! You would have done better if you had gone to bed at once, instead of parading around the premises all night.

Burris.—But why should I go to bed? There is nothing the matter with me, except perhaps a trifling irritation of the skin where I fell. There is very little pain, and that only when I move a certain way. I can’t feel even my old bullet wound.

Doctor——I am prone to believe that, ha, ha, ha! That’s exactly what surprises me. I was about to pass it over in order not to excite you unnecessarily.

Burris.—Please Doctor, what is it you’re keeping up your sleeve?

Doctor.—By thunder, you shall see! But don’t be too violent.

(He takes from the washbowl a piece of lead about the size of a hazel nut, and shows it to Burrris.)

Burris.—What is it?

Doctor.—You ought to know better than anyone. You carried it around long enough. That’s what I took out of your back just half an hour ago. Talk of luck! You have by accident got rid of a host here that might have poisoned many a wee hour of your existence.

Burris (Joyfully embracing the doctor)—Doctor Dustin! You can not possibly understand how happy this makes me! It was this cursed piece of lead . . .

Doctor (Interrupting).—I know, I know! Last night, when your lady was asleep, Miss Lena gave me the whole tangled history, with the climax of yesterday. So you will know how I felt when that damn rebel shot fell out of your back into my hand without any probing. Sometimes it would seem that the Fate in control of our destinies is not so blind as she is represented.

Burris.—And for that reason what you are telling me might do Erna a lot of good.