Wild Youth | Page 8

get one over from the Coast,
or from Winnipeg, or else there was old Doctor Gensing, in
Askatoon--who was seventy-five at least. He would call him in and get
rid of this offensive young pill-maker.
"I don't believe there's anything the matter with her," he declared
stubbornly. "She's been healthy as a woman can be, living this life here.
What's her disease? I've asked you. What is it?"
The other laid a hand on himself, and in the colourless voice of the
expert, said: "Old age--that's her trouble, so far as I can see."
He paused, foreseeing the ferocious look which swept into the repulsive
face, and the clenching of the big hands. Then in a soothing, reflective
kind of voice he added:
"Senile decay--you know all about that. Well, now, it happens
sometimes --not often, but it does happen--that a very young person for
some cause or another suffers from senile decay. Some terrible leakage
of youth occurs. It has been cured, though, and I've cured one or two
cases myself."
He was almost prevaricating--but in a good cause. "Mrs. Mazarine's is a
case which can be cured, I think," he continued. "As you've remarked,

Mr. Mazarine,"--his voice was now persuasive,--"here is fine air, and a
good, comfortable home--"
Suddenly he broke off, and as though in innocent inquiry said: "Now,
has she too much to do? Has she sufficient help in the house for one so
young?"
"She doesn't do more than's good for her," answered the old man, "and
there's the half-breed hired critter--you've seen her--and Li Choo, a
Chinaman, too. That ought to be enough," he added scornfully.
The Young Doctor seemed to reflect, and his face became urbane,
because he saw he must proceed warily, if he was to be of service to his
new patient.
"Yes," he said emphatically, "she appears to have help enough. I must
think over her case and see her again to-morrow."
The old man's look suddenly darkened. "Ain't she better:"' he asked.
"She's not so much better that there's no danger of her being worse," the
Young Doctor replied decisively. "I certainly must see her to-morrow."
"Why," the old man remarked, waving his splayed hand up and down
in a gesture of emphasis, "she's never been sick. She's in and out of this
house all day. She goes about with her animals like as if she hadn't a
care or an ache or pain in the world. I've heard of women that fancied
they was sick because they hadn't too much to do, and was too well off,
and was treated too well. Highsterics, they call it. Lots of women, lots
and lots of them, would be glad to have such a home as this, and would
stay healthy in it."
The Young Docor felt he had made headway, and he let it go at that. It
was clear he was to be permitted to come to-morrow. "Yes, it's a fine
place," he replied convincingly. "Three thousand acres is a mighty big
place when you've got farm-land as well as cattle-grazing."
"It's nearly all good farm-land," answered the old man with decision. "I

don't believe much in ranching or cattle. I'm for the plough and the
wheat. There's more danger from cattle disease than from bad crops.
I'm getting rid of my cattle. I expect to sell a lot of 'em to-day." An
avaricious smile of satisfaction drew down the corners of his lips. "I've
got a good customer. He ought to be on the trail now." He drew out a
huge silver watch. "Yes, he's due. The party's a foreigner, I believe. He
lives over at Slow Down Ranch--got a French name."
"Oh, Giggles!" said the Young Doctor with a quick smile.
The old man shook his head: "No, that ain't the name. It's
Guise-Orlando Guise is the name."
"Same thing," remarked the Young Doctor. "They call him Giggles for
short. You've seen him of course?"
"No, I've been dealing with him so far through a third party. Why's he
called Giggles?" asked the Master of Tralee.
"Well, you'll know when you see him. He's not cut according to
everybody's measure. If you're dealing with him, don't think him a fool
because he chirrups, and don't size him up according to his looks. He's
a dude. Some call him The Duke, but mostly he's known as Giggles."
"Fools weary me," grumbled the other.
"Well, as I said, you mustn't begin dealing with him on the basis of his
looks. Looks don't often tell the truth. For instance, you're known as a
Christian and a Methodist!" He looked the old man slowly up and down,
and in anyone else it would have seemed gross insolence, but the
urbane smile at his lips belied the malice of his words. "Well, you
know