“That will do.” Buffalo Bill threw the sheriff from him. “There’s a yellow streak in Bloom, doctor,” he added, “that has to be handled just so.” “I’ve noticed it before,” agreed the doctor. “Bloom means well--sometimes--but he’s got a poor way of showing it--at all times. However, he ain’t such a bad sheriff, where his personal likes and dislikes don’t get tangled up with his duty. Don’t get sore, Bloom,” he added, to the sheriff; “I felt like doing the same thing to you when your mouth went off like that. Watch yourself, man, or your tongue will do harm for you.” Bloom was angry. It happened, however, that the doctor was a politician. Whatever the doctor said, in politics in that county, was usually what the voters abided by. Nothing was to be gained by rowing with the doctor. “I want to do my duty,” declared Bloom, caressing his throat, “but I’ll be durn if I want to stand for Cody and all his high and mighty purceedin’s. When he blows in here and begins straightening things out on the Brazos, does he come to me and ask my help? Nary. For all he cared, the sheriff didn’t amount to a whoop. He just went it himself.” “So there’s your grouch, is it?” grinned the doctor. “Jealous! Jealous old sore-head! Cody’s doing things and never asking you to chime in and help. Oh, gosh! Well, what’s the odds so long as a good live man brings order out of chaos? Makes the bird of peace wing brightly up and down the river without molting a feather? Puts all you cattlemen into harmony with each other? Besides, it appears to me as though he’s asking you to do something now, and you’re hanging out about it. You travel with Hank and me, Bloom, or I’ll get your scalp when you’re up for nomination next time. That’s about as flat as I can make it.” At that moment, Prouther came up with the horses. “All aboard!” called the doctor, picking up his hat from a chair. “Here’s where we ride with the king of scouts, and find out what he’s got to show us. I’ll bet a pill against a dose of salts it’s worth while. Come, gentlemen!” “Will Jake be all right?” asked Phelps anxiously. “We can’t help him any by staying,” answered the doctor. “Maybe if we clear out he’ll come around while we’re gone. I’ll have Prouther come in and sit with him.” The doctor hurried into a rear room for a moment, and then reappeared. “Same’s usual,” said he, wrinkling his forehead perplexedly. “Ain’t it fierce that I can’t do a thing? Well, anyhow, over the hills and far away with Scout Cody. Chirk up, gents! I feel as though something important was about to happen. Oh, my prophetic soul!” The doctor was a queer one. The scout had never seen much of him before, but he was wonderfully taken with the old fellow. He was an able aide in this emergency, that was certain. The three men went out and mounted. The doctor kept sharp eyes on Phelps. He seemed perfectly sure of Bloom and gave him scant attention. “How long will we be gone, Buffalo Bill?” asked the doctor.