"I'm Joe Colver, county judge," he said, dragging his words as though each was anchored in his chest. "Uncle Billy Hoonover come in a while ago sayin' the Scribbenses had small-pox. I don't know whether he knows what he's talkin' about or not, but they live in our county and it's our duty to investigate it and if necessary put a quarantine on 'em." He smiled laboriously as he continued. "We usually give cases like this to the young fellers. The old hosses git above it, you know. If you'll go and take charge I'll promise the county'll allow you a reasonable fee. And you'll save Uncle Billy Hoonover a fit of some kind if you'll go pretty quick." "Fit!" shrilled Uncle Billy, prancing up and down. "Who wouldn't have a fit with the ketchin' small-pox under his nose? Tell me that?" "I'll go, judge," said Glenning; "where do they live?" "Under my nose!" reiterated Uncle Billy. "A crick 'n' a narrer fiel' 'twixt them 'n' me! The win' could blow it right in my door if it set right!" Doctor Kale had at last brought himself up, and he now cast a withering look of scorn upon the excited layman. He was plainly too full for words, for in a moment he clapped his hat on his head and bustled out with it riding his ears. "Old Kale's a caution," commented the judge, laughing lazily, "but he's got plenty o' doctor sense. He's got the cream o' the practice about here. The best people want 'im, and they'll wait for 'im if they ain't pretty bad off. I knew you was on a cold trail, Uncle Billy, when you struck Kale." "He'd better quit if he can't 'ten' to the sick. I don't b'lieve in 'scrimination, nohow. He might 'a' knowed the county'd 'a' paid 'im for his work. There never was a county without paupers in it, 'n' they're always gittin' somethin' worse'n anybody else!" Judge Colver waved his hand and turned to go. "Uncle Billy'll show you where they live, doctor. I wish you'd bring me your report as soon as you get back. We haven't had small-pox in the county for thirty years," he added, as his big figure moved ponderously out the door. Mr. Hoonover had carried his point, but that fact in no wise stilled his tongue. He must talk. An argument was always better suited to his temperament, which was naturally belligerent, but when controversy was impossible he rambled on anyhow. While Glenning was making his brief preparations Uncle Billy's tongue was going. "I hope you'll run ol' Kale till he takes in his sign!" he piped. "A doctor oughter be for ever'body, but ol' Kale's for the quality stric'ly. I do b'lieve he'd be glad if I was took with the small-pox, so't he could git a dig at me." "Oh, then he is your family physician, too?" "Yes, yes; I'm a fool like the balance of 'em. But it don't pay to git stuck on any one doctor, for they'll either neglect you or bulldooze you when you do. If you c'n cure the Scribbenses, durned if I don't switch off 'n' have you for a spell!" Glenning smiled as he picked up his medicine case and reached for his hat.