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The Lady Doc By: Caroline Lockhart (1870-1962) |
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by CAROLINE LOCKHART Author of
"The Man from Bitter Roots," "The Fighting Shepherdess" Frontispiece by Gayle Hoskins [Illustration: "No, Essie Tisdale, I can't just see you in any such
setting as that"] A. L. Burt Company
Publishers New York
Published by arrangement with J. B. Lippincott Company Copyright, 1912,
by J. B. Lippincott Company Published September, 1912 CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE
I. The "Canuck" That Saved Flour Gold 9
II. The Humor of the Fate Lachesis 17
III. A Mésalliance 31
IV. "The Ground Floor" 43
V. Another Case in Surgery 56
VI. "The Church Racket" 70
VII. The Sheep From the Goats 77
VIII. "The Chance of a Lifetime" 90
IX. The Ways of Polite Society 99
X. Essie Tisdale's Enforced Abnegation 110
XI. The Opening Wedge 120
XII. Their First Clash 127
XIII. Essie Tisdale's Colors 139
XIV. "The Ethics of the Profession" 147
XV. Symes's Authority 165
XVI. The Top Wave 172
XVII. The Possible Investor 179
XVIII. "Her Supreme Moment" 188
XIX. "Down And Out" 213
XX. An Unfortunate Affair 234
XXI. Turning a Corner 248
XXII. Crowheart's First Murder Mystery 259
XXIII. Symes Meets the Homeseekers 271
XXIV. The Dago Duke And Dan Treu Exchange Confidences 280
XXV. Crowheart Demands Justice 288
XXVI. Latin Methods 294
XXVII. Essie Tisdale's Moment 303
XXVIII. The Sweetest Thing in the World 312
XXIX. "The Bitter End" 325
XXX. "Thicker Than Water" 332
THE LADY DOC I THE "CANUCK" THAT SAVED FLOUR GOLD
"A fellow must have something against himself he certainly must to
live down here year in and year out and never do a lick of work on a
trail like this, that he's usin' constant. Gettin' off half a dozen
times to lift the front end of your horse around a point, and then the
back end there's nothin' to it!" Grumbling to himself and talking whimsically to the three horses
stringing behind him, Dick Kincaid picked his way down the zigzag,
sidling trail which led from the saddleback between two peaks of the
Bitter Root Mountains into the valley which still lay far below him. "Quit your crowdin', can't you, Baldy!" He laid a restraining hand upon
the white nose of the horse following close at his heels. "Want to jam
me off this ledge and send me rollin' two thousand feet down onto their
roof? Good as I've been to you, too!" He stopped and peered over the edge of the precipice along which the
faint trail ran. "Looks like smoke." He nodded in satisfaction. "Yes, 'tis smoke. Long
past dinner time, but then these squaws go to cookin' whenever they
happen to think about it. Lord, but I'm hungry! Wish some good lookin'
squaw would get took with me and follow me off, for I sure hates cookin'
and housework." Still talking to himself he resumed the descent, slipping and sliding
and digging his heels hard to hold himself back. "They say she sticks like beeswax, Dubois's squaw, never tries to run
off but stays right to home raisin' up a batch of young 'uns... Continue reading book >>
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