Tucker, however, did not make this interview disagreeable in the way that was expected: instead of becoming discouraged and depressed, he became indignant. “What’s that?” he cried. “You don’t consider me a good risk?” “I am sorry to say,” returned Murray, “that our physician does not report favorably on you.” “Oh, he doesn’t!” exclaimed Tucker. “Well, that’s a good joke on the doctor, isn’t it?” “What!” “You’d better discharge him and get a man with some sense.” “I thought,” said Murray dubiously, “that it might seem rather hard on you.” “Hard on me!” ejaculated Tucker. “Hard on the company, you mean! You’re letting a little two-by-four doctor steer you away from a good thing. Why, say! I’m good for as long a life as an elephant!” “I’m sure I hope so.” “It’s robbery—plain robbery—for that doctor to take a fee from you for making such a report on me. I’ll show him up!” “How?” asked Murray curiously. “By living!” declared Tucker. “It’s going to give me infinite pleasure to report to you from time to time and show you one of the healthiest men that ever was turned down by an insurance company. He can’t scare me into a decline—not any! And, say! he looks to me like a young man.” “He is.” “A young man in fine physical condition.” “He is.” “Well, I’ll go to his funeral, and I’ll be in prime condition when he’s put away! You tell him that, will you? I’ll be walking when he has to be carried.” Now, this was rather annoying to Murray. It was preferable to the despair that overwhelmed some men in similar circumstances, but it seemed to him that Tucker was overdoing it. “Anyhow,” said Murray resentfully, “we would not care to put fifty thousand dollars on your life, for it’s more than a man in your position ought to carry. You’ll never be worth as much alive as you would be dead, with that insurance.” “Oh, I won’t!” retorted Tucker sarcastically. “Well, now, instead of making the girl I am to marry a present of a policy on my life, I’ll just make her a present of your whole blamed company in a few years. You watch what I do with the money you might have had!” “You are about to marry?” asked Murray with interest. “It’s a serious matter, in view of the physician’s report.” “Marriage is always a serious matter,” asserted Tucker. “I don’t have to have a doctor tell me that. But he can’t scare me out with flubdub about heart murmur, for I know the heart was murmuring, and the prospective Mrs. Tucker does, too. She’ll interpret that murmur for him any time he wants a little enlightenment.” Murray laughed when Tucker had gone. The man’s indignation had been momentarily irritating, but there was something amusing about it, too. “He’s going to live to a green old age, just to spite the company,” mused Murray. “It’s a matter of no great personal interest to him, but he’d like to make the company feel bad. If a man could order his life as he can his business affairs, there would be mighty little chance for us.”