"Yes, another doctor bought him out."
"Who?"
"I don't think he amounts to much," he replied evasively.
"But who is he? What's his name?"
"I wish I had a chair to offer you," he said, as they drew up under the canvas awning that Little Jack Ryan had stretched, "but I haven't. The one I had was borrowed from Mrs. Charles."
"I'm only going to stay a minute—it doesn't matter. So somebody bought Old Doc Ross out? I've always hoped it would be you. Have you met him?"
"Why, no; no, I can't say that I ever have met him."
"I always hoped you'd see your chance here—it was coming all the time. I saw it a long way off. Didn't I tell you?"
"Yes, Elizabeth, you told me. You said I'd have to go out after it with a gun, and I told you that wasn't my style."
"You'd better have done that than let it get away," she reproved him. "Who grabbed it? What's the new doctor's name?"
"Fellow by the name of Hall," he replied, looking slyly at her across his nose.
"Good boy! good boy!" Elizabeth applauded, swung off her feet by the unexpected news.
She held out her hand to congratulate him on his bare-handed capture of a man's chance, fleet game that galloped so swiftly across that changing country west of Dodge.
Dr. Hall held her eager warm hand a moment, smiling down on her in paternal, indulgent kindness. He was
