"In other words, I'm a physician. I'm the railroad doctor."
Hall had turned to look at Justice as he revealed himself in language plain to the country west of Dodge. He was grinning, humorously and expansively, as if it might be some kind of a lark, out of which he expected to get a lot of fun.
"The hell you say!" Jim exploded in astonishment, being too shallow to receive the shock of a surprise without considerable splash.
"That's about it."
"Company doctor, heh? Old Doc Ross has been 'tendin' to the company cases here for two or three years. Does he know he's fired, do you reckon?"
"I don't know about that, but I suppose it's likely. I never heard of the gentleman."
"Bumped old Doc Ross out of his job, heh? Never heard of Old Doc Ross?"
"I never did. Is he especially famous in this part of the country?"
"He used to be a fit doctor, travelin' around with a wagon. Had a sign painted on the side of it: 'Old Doc Ross, He Cures Fits.' I remember the day he drove up here in that wagon. I don't reckon we had more than forty people in this town then."
"He must have found it fit headquarters to settle down here," Hall said, holding no high opinion of Old Doc Ross from this public fame.
"Well, if all of us didn't have fits he made us think we had," Jim said, laughing over the recollection, reddening in the heat of his mirth like a turkey gobbler. "Old Doc Ross can convince any man, woman or child they've either
