Joey grinned. “Boy, I’m sure glad we got that settled. I was really worried.”
“Go on,” Pete said. “You wasn’t worried—you was plumb jealous. Come on now, Joey, admit it. Wasn’t you jealous?”
“Sure I was,” Joey confessed.
Doc Beemis leaned across the table and helped himself to a heaping spoonful of mashed potatoes. “Then why aren’t you jealous of Crosby? He and Fury are thick as two thieves.”
“I know, but I don’t mind his liking a dog. A mare’s different.”
“Jealousy, the jaundice of the soul,” murmured Doc Beemis, as he drowned his pork chops in brown gravy.
“How’s that agin?” asked Pete.
“I was quoting John Dryden.”
Pete scowled. “Who’s he? One of yer customers?”
“Ignorance is bliss,” said Doc, cramming a forkful of meat into his mouth. “Kindly remain blissful, my ancient friend—and pass those delicious dumplings.”
After supper, when Joey went to the corral with a basinful of bones for Crosby, he found Fury and the dog still frisking together. As Crosby tackled the bones, Fury sidled up to Joey and nuzzled his cheek.
“Thanks,” Joey said. “I’m glad you still like me, too.”
Fury made a loving sound, deep down in his throat.
Back in the kitchen, while the men were “manicurin’ the goldern dishes,” as Pete put it, Jim asked Doc Beemis his plans for the summer.
“I’ll be touring the glorious West,” Doc answered, “selling my wares as usual. But as I travel, I plan to keep my eyes open for something I’ve been seeking for the past two years.”
“I kin guess what that’d be,” said Pete, with a chuckle. “A rich millionaire that you kin sell a truckload of them phony medicines to.”
Doc looked hurt. “I resent that remark. This year I’m offering a remarkable medical discovery called Swain’s Ointment, which will be a blessing to man, woman, and child.”
“Shore,” Pete scoffed, “as long as they don’t drink it.”
Jim was interested in Doc’s plan. “What is it you’re looking for?”
“A wife,” Doc said, gazing into space.
Pete howled with glee. “A wife? Now who in tarnation’d marry an old codger like you?”
“Scoff if you will, Peter, but it’s true. The time has come for me to cease wandering hither and yon. So what I seek now is a sensible woman who will comfort me in my declining years.”
“That’s great news,” Jim said. “I certainly hope you find her.”
“Thank you, James.” Doc lowered his voice. “By the way, where’s Joseph?”
“Out at the corral with Fury and Crosby.”
“Good,” said Doc, reaching into his pocket. “In the morning, after I’ve departed, I’d like you to give him this money.” He handed Jim nine dollars and forty-eight cents. “It’s the sum he paid for that flea-bitten mongrel of mine.”
“I don’t get it. Why should you return his money? He made a business deal with you.”
“True, but he got the worst of it. To be honest with you, that dog’s howling has driven me close to the loonybin. In fact, I would have paid the boy nine dollars and forty-eight cents to take the miserable mutt off my hands.”
“Okay,” Jim said. “Joey’ll be mighty happy to have both the dog and the money.”
“He shore will,” agreed Pete. He lay a hand on Doc’s shoulder. “We’re gonna miss you, you ole coot. When do you figger on drivin’ back this way?”
“In October—about six months from now—unless I find the woman of my dreams. In that happy event I’ll send you a wedding announcement.”
Early the next morning, when Doc Beemis drove away, Crosby didn’t even look up. He was too busy romping with Fury.
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