100 THE ITINERANT HORSE PHYSICIAN 



miles to a colic with no trocar. And when I gets 

 there the gosh-darned plug is bloated like a circus 

 balloon. Had she been a cow I might a knived 

 her, but you know we can't do no such surgery 

 on the equi specials. Come on out of that there 

 bed now and go along back with me; we got to 

 hurry." 



Well, I looked at my watch and saw that it 

 would soon be daylight anyhow, so I jumped 

 into my clothes and rode along back to the poor 

 nag waiting to be stabbed with the trocar, eight 

 miles away. 



From the description Dr. Asa gave me of the 

 case as it was when he left it I judged that the 

 rancher would probably be digging the grave 

 when we arrived. Dr. Asa did not think so, 

 because he had given the horse a big dose of 

 peppermint and belladonna, his favorite colic 

 cure; he was sure this would keep him going 

 until the trocar could be gotten. 



When we were getting close to the ranch house 

 Asa began to run the horse he was driving and 

 we flew into that yard like a Chicago fire depart- 

 ment, taking off a rod or two of poultry wire 

 from the hen yard before Asa got the control of 

 the fifth wheel after making the turn into the 

 gate. 



I could see no one anywhere about when we 

 made our flying entrance and I was sure the 

 patient had died. To one side of the barn there 

 was a small mesquite grove and toward this grove 

 Asa now steered our horse. As we got up close 



