E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Irma Spehar, and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net) RED PEPPER'S PATIENTS With an Account of Anne Linton's Case in Particular by GRACE S. RICHMOND Garden City New York Doubleday, Page & Company 1918 [Illustration: FRONTISPIECE] [Illustration: "Red Pepper" Burns, M.D.] CONTENTS CHAPTER I. AN INTELLIGENT PRESCRIPTION II. LITTLE HUNGARY III. ANNE LINTON'S TEMPERATURE IV. TWO RED HEADS V. SUSQUEHANNA VI. HEAVY LOCAL MAILS VII. WHITE LILACS VIII. EXPERT DIAGNOSIS IX. JORDAN IS A MAN X. THE SURGICAL FIRING LINE XI. THE ONLY SAFE PLACE XII. THE TRUTH ABOUT SUSQUEHANNA XIII. RED HEADED AGAIN XIV. A STRANGE DAY XV. CLEARED DECKS XVI. WHITE LILACS AGAIN XVII. RED'S DEAREST PATIENTS CHAPTER I AN INTELLIGENT PRESCRIPTION The man in the silk-lined, London-made overcoat, holding his hat firmly on his head lest the January wind send its expensive perfection into the gutter, paused to ask his way of the man with no overcoat, his hands shoved into his ragged pockets, his shapeless headgear crowded down over his eyes, red and bleary with the piercing wind. "Burns?" repeated the second man to the question of the first. "Doc Burns? Sure! Next house beyond the corner--the brick one." He turned to point. "Tell it by the rigs hitched. It's his office hours. You'll do some waitin', tell ye that." The questioner smiled--a slightly superior smile. "Thank you," he said, and passed on. He arrived at the corner and paused briefly, considering the row of vehicles in front of the old, low-lying brick house with its comfortable, white-pillared porches. The row was indeed a formidable one and suggested many waiting people within the house. But after an instant's hesitation he turned up the gravel path toward the wing of the house upon whose door could be seen the lettering of an inconspicuous sign. As he came near he made out that the sign read "R.P. Burns, M.D.," and that the table of office hours below set forth that the present hour was one of those designated. "I'll get a line on your practice, Red," said the stranger to himself, and laid hand upon the doorbell. "Incidentally, perhaps, I'll get a line on why you stick to a small suburban town like this when you might be in the thick of things. A fellow whom I've twice met in Vienna, too. I can't understand it."