Part 60 (1/2)

”If you do, sir, she'll never get up again.”

”By Jo'!” exclaimed the owner of the horse. ”I don't want that!” He looked grimly on the gentle sufferer. ”See her,” he presently said; ”why, I never saw anything get sick so fast. Why, Mr. March, I'm afraid she's going to die right here! Half an hour ago I wouldn't 'a' sold that mare for two thousand dollars! Mr. March, if you can save her you may have all the doctors you want, and I'll pay you a hundred dollars yourself as quick as I'd pay you one!”

”Give me the reins,” was John's response. ”Where's the very nearest good stable?”

There was one not far away. He turned and soon reached it. As they stopped in its door the beautiful creature in his care was trembling in all her flesh, and dripping sweat from every pore. The ready grooms helped him unharness.

”I'll send for a doctor, shan't I?” said Bulger, twice, before John heard him.

”Yes, if you know a real one; but I'll have everything done before he gets here. Here, you, fetch a blanket. Somebody bring me some fine salt--oh, a double handful--a tumblerful--to rub her back with--only be quick!”

In a moment the harness had given place to halter and blanket, and the weak invalid stiffly followed John's firm leading over the sawdust.

Three hours later Bulger said, ”She's a good deal better, ain't she?”

and when March smiled fondly on her and replied that he ”should say so,”

her owner suggested luncheon.

”No,” said John, ”you go and eat; I shan't leave her till she's well.

She mustn't lie down, and I can't trust anyone to keep her from doing it.”

Two or three times more Bulger went and came again, and the lamps were being lighted in the streets when at last John remarked,

”Well, sir, you can harness her up now and drive her home. Nice gyirl!

Nice gyirl! Did you think us was gwine to let you curl up and die out yond' in the street? No, missie, no! you nice ole gyirl, doggone yo'

sweet soul, no!”

”Mr. March,” said Bulger, ”I said I'd pay you a hundred dollars if you'd cure her, didn't I? Well, here's my check for half of it, and if you just say the word I'll make another for the other half.”

John pushed away the proffering hand with a pleased laugh. ”I can't take pay for doctoring a horse, sir, but I will ask a favor of you--in fact, I'll ask two; and the first is, Come and have dinner with me, will you?”

And when John called on Fannie the next morning, Mr. Bulger had taken a train for Suez, expecting to return in three days subscriber for all the land company's stock left untaken through the prudence of the younger Fair. John had treated himself to a handsome new pocketbook.

LXII.

RAVENEL THINKS HE MUST

”So you'll be leaving us at once!” said Fannie, as the two sat by Ravenel's bed.

”No, not till Mr. Bulger gets back. I can be up to my neck in work till then on the colonization side of the business.” They bent to hear the bridegroom's words:

”Wish you wouldn't go East till Friday evening, and then go with us.”

”Why Jeff-Jack Ravenel,” exclaimed Fannie, with a careworn laugh, ”what are you talking about?”

”Not much fun for John,” was the languis.h.i.+ng reply, ”but big favor to us.”

”But, my goodness!” said the bride, ”the doctor won't even let you get up.”