"Now, here we was, fixed up like I told you. Mr. Allopath is over on
Sweetwater creek, Mr. Homeopath is maybe in the last stages of
starvation. Old Pinto looks plumb hopeless, and all us fellers is
mostly hopeless too, owin' to his uncertain habits in a horse race, yet
knowin' that it ain't perfessional for us not to back a Bar T horse
that can run as fast as this one can.

"About then along comes Mr. Ostypath. This was just about thirty days
before the county fair at Socorro, and there was money hung up for
horse races over there that made us feel sick to think of. We knew we
could go out of the cow-punchin' business for good if we could just
only onct get Pinto over there, and get him to run the right way for a
few brief moments.

"Was he game? I don't know. There never was no horse ever got clost
enough to him in a horse race to tell whether he was game or not. He
might not get back home in time for supper, but he would shore run
industrious. Say, I talked in a telyphome onct. The book hung on the
box said the telyphome was instantaneous. It ain't. But now this
Pinto, he was a heap more instantaneous than a telyphome.

"As I was sayin', it was long about now Mr. Ostypath comes in. He
talks with the boss about locatin' around in here. Boss studies him
over a while, and as there ain't been anybody sick for over ten years
he tries to break it to Mr. Ostypath gentle that the Bar T ain't a good
place for a doctor. They have some conversation along in there,
that-a-way, and Mr. Ostypath before long gets the boss interested deep
and plenty. He says there ain't no such a thing as gettin' sick. We
all knew that before; but he certainly floors the lot when he allows
that the reason a feller don't feel good, so as he can eat tenpenny
nails, and make a million dollars a year, is always because there is
something wrong with his osshus structure.

"He says the only thing that makes a feller have rheumatism, or
dyspepsia, or headache, or nosebleed, or red hair, or any other
sickness, is that something is wrong with his nervous system. Now,
it's this-a-way. He allows them nerves is like a bunch of garden hose.
If you put your foot on the hose, the water can't run right free. If
you take it off, everything's lovely. 'Now,' says Mr. Ostypath, 'if,
owin' to some luxation, some leeshun, some temporary mechanical
disarrangement of your osshus structure, due to a oversight of a
All-wise Providence, or maybe a f