Up the Hill and Over | Page 6

far the blessing of hunger depends upon one's
power to gratify it."
They laughed together with a splendid sense of comradeship; then with
a startled "I really must ring the bell!" she turned and ran up the steps.
Smilingly he watched her disappear, waiting musingly until a sudden

furious ringing told him that school was called.
CHAPTER III
Two sandwiches, an apple, and a glass of water may save a man from
starvation, but they do not go far towards satisfying the reviving
appetite of a convalescent. Walking with brisk step down the road,
Callandar began to imagine the kind of meal he would order--a clear
soup, broiled steak, crisp potatoes--a few little simple things like that!
He fingered his pocketbook lovingly, glad that, for the first time in
some months, he actually wanted something that money could buy.
Now that noon was past, the intense heat of the morning was tempered
by a breeze. It was still hot and his footsteps raised little cyclones of
dust which flew along the road before him, but the oppression in the air
was gone, and walking had ceased to be a weariness. The mile which
separated him from Coombe appeared no longer endless, yet so
insistent were the demands of his inner man that when a town-going
farmer hailed him with the usual offer of a "lift," he accepted the
invitation with alacrity.
"Better," he murmured to himself, "the delights of rustic conversation
with a good meal at the end thereof than lordly solitude and emptiness
withal."
But contrary to expectation the rustic declined to converse. He was a
melancholy-looking man with a long jaw and eyes so deep-set that the
observer took them on faith, and a nose which alone would have been
sufficient to identify him. Beyond the first request to "step up," he
vouchsafed no word and, save for an inarticulate gurgle to his horse,
seemed lost in an ageless calm. His gaze was fixed upon some
indefinite portion of the horse's back and he drove leaning forward in
an attitude of complete bodily and mental relaxation. If his guest
wished conversation it was apparent that he must set it going himself.
"Very warm day!" said Callandar tentatively.
"So-so." The farmer slapped the reins over the horse's flank, jerked

them abruptly and murmured a hoarse "Giddap!" It was his method of
encouraging the onward motion of the animal.
"Is it always as warm as this hereabouts?"
"No. Sometimes we get it a little cooler 'bout Christmas."
The doctor flushed with annoyance and then laughed.
"You see," he explained, "I'm new to this part of the country. But I
always thought you had it cooler up here."
The manner of the rustic grew more genial.
"Mostly we do," he admitted; "but this here is a hot spell." Another
long pause and then he volunteered suddenly: "You can mostly tell by
Alviry. When she gets a sunstroke it's purty hot. I'm going for the
doctor now."
"Going for the doctor?" Callandar's gaze swept the peaceful figure with
incredulous amusement. "Great Scott, man! Why don't you hurry? Can't
the horse go any faster?"
"Maybe," resignedly, "but he won't."
"Make him, then! A sunstroke may be a very serious business. Your
wife may be dead before you get back."
The deep-set eyes turned to him slowly. There seemed something like a
distant sparkle in their depths.
"Don't get to worrying, stranger. It'll take more 'an a sunstroke to polish
off Alviry."
"Was she unconscious?"
"Not so as you could notice."
"But if it were a sunstroke--look here, I'll go with you myself. I am a

doctor."
"Kind of thought you might be," he responded genially. "Thinking of
taking on old Doc. Simmonds's practice?"
"I don't know. But if your wife--"
The rustic shook his head. "No. You wouldn't do for Alviry. She said to
get Doc. Parker, and a sunstroke ain't going to change her none. But if
she likes your looks she'll probably try you next time. Tumble fond of
experiments is Alviry--hi! giddap!" He slapped his horse more forcibly
with the loose reins and settled into, mournful silence.
"Going to put up at the Imperial?" he asked after a long and peaceful
pause.
"I want to put up somewhere where I can get a good meal and get it
quickly."
The mournful Jehu shook his head gloomily.
"You won't get that at the Imperial."
"Where had I better go?"
"There ain't any other place to go--not to speak of."
The doctor let fall a fiery exclamation.
"What say?"
"I said that it must be a queer town."
"I'm a little hard of hearing, now and agin. But I gather you're not a
church-going man. It's a great church-going place, is Coombe. Old Doc.
Simmonds was a Methody. We were kind of hoping the next