k
for Doctor Gordon in Alton, and I don't care a d---- where you work."
James spoke with the most perfect good nature, still laughing.

Then the man's face relaxed into a broad grin. "Didn't know but you were
puttin' on lugs," said he. "I am about tired of all those damned
benefactors comin' along and arskin' of a man whot's none of their
business, when a man knows all the time they don't care nothin' about
it, and then makin' a man take somethin' he don't want, so as to get
their names in the papers." The man sniffed a sniff of fury, then his
handsome blue eyes smiled pleasantly, even with mischievous confidence
into James's, and he swallowed more coffee.

"I am no benefactor, you can bet your life on that," said James. "I
don't mean to give you anything you want or don't want."

"Didn't know but you was one of that kind," returned the man.

"Why?"

The man eyed James's clothes expressively.

"Oh, you mean my clothes," said James. "Well, this suit and overcoat are
pretty fair, but if I were a benefactor I should be wearing seedy
clothes, and have my wallet stuffed with bills for other folks."

"You bet you wouldn't," said the other man. "That ain't the way
benefactors go to work. What be you goin' to do at Doc Gordon's?"

"Drive," replied James laconically.

"Guess you can't take care of hosses in no sech togs as them."

"I've got some others. I'm going to learn to doctor a little, too, if I
can."

The man surveyed him, then he burst into a great laugh. "Well," said he,
"when I git the measles I'll call you in."

"All right," said James, "I won't charge you a red cent. I'll doctor you
and all your children and your wife for nothing."

"Guess you won't need to charge nothin' for the wife and kids, seein' as
I ain't got none," said the man. "Ketch me saddled up with a woman an'
kids, if I know what I'm about. Them's for the benefactors. I live in a
little shanty I rigged up myself out of two packin' boxes. I've got 'em
on a man's medder here. He let me squat for nothin'. I git my meals
here, an' I work on the railroad, an' I've got a soft snap, with nobody
to butt in. Here, Mame, give us another cup of coffee. Mame's the girl I
want, if I could hev one. Ain't you, Mame?"

The girl, who was a blonde, with an exaggerated pompadour fastened with
aggressive celluloid pins, smiled pertly. "Reckon I h'ain't no more use
for men than you hev for women," said she, as she poured the coffee. All
that could be seen