She turned away from him and passed the doctor—­blindly.

Buck Daniels had set his foot on the stairs when Byrne hurried after him and touched his arm; they went up together.

“Mr. Daniels,” said the doctor, “it is necessary that I speak with you, alone.  Will you come into my room for a few moments?”

“Doc,” said the cattleman, “I’m short on my feed and I don’t feel a pile like talkin’.  Can’t you wait till the morning?”

“There has been a great deal too much waiting, Mr. Daniels,” said the doctor.  “What I have to say to you must be said now.  Will you come in?”

“I will,” nodded Buck Daniels.  “But cut it short.”

Once in his room the doctor lighted the lamp and then locked the door.

“What’s all the mystery and hush stuff?” growled Daniels, and with a gesture he refused the proffered chair.  “Cut loose, doc, and make it short.”

The little man sat down, removed his glasses, held them up to the light, found a speck upon them, polished it carefully away, replaced the spectacles upon his nose, and peered thoughtfully at Buck Daniels.

Buck Daniels rolled his eyes towards the door and then even towards the window, and then, as one who accepts the inevitable, he sank into a chair and plunged his hands into his pockets, prepared to endure.

“I am called,” went on the doctor dryly, “to examine a case in which the patient is dangerously ill—­in fact, hopelessly ill, and I have found that the cause of his illness is a state of nervous expectancy on the part of the sufferer.  It being obviously necessary to know the nature of the disease and its cause before that cause may be removed, I have asked you to sit here this evening to give me whatever explanation you may have for it.”

Buck Daniels stirred uneasily.  At length he broke out:  “Doc, I size you up as a gent with brains.  I got one piece of advice for you:  get the hell away from the Cumberland Ranch and never come back again!”

The doctor flushed and his lean jaw thrust out.

“Although,” he said, “I cannot pretend to be classed among those to whom physical fear is an unknown, yet I wish to assure you, sir, that with me physical trepidation is not an overruling motive.”

“Oh, hell!” groaned Buck Daniels.  Then he explained more gently:  “I don’t say you’re yellow.  All I say is:  this mess ain’t one that you can straighten out—­nor no other man can.  Give it up, wash your hands, and git back to Elkhead.  I dunno what Kate was thinkin’ of to bring you out here!”

“The excellence of your intention,” said the doctor, “I shall freely admit, though the assumption that difficulty in the essential problem would deter me from the analysis is an hypothesis which I cannot leave uncontested.  In the vulgar, I may give you to understand that I am in this to stay!”

Buck Daniels started to speak, but thinking better of it he shrugged his shoulders and sat back, resigned.