O'Donoghue's face made Mr. Doyle pause. He turned
and saw Meldon standing on the threshold.
"Be damn!" he said, "if it isn't Mr. Meldon. The Major was telling me
last week he was expecting you. You're looking well, so you are.
England agrees with you."
"I can't say as much for you," said Meldon. "You're getting fat. You
ought to take more exercise. Why don't you start a golf links? It would
do you all the good in the world, and be an attraction to the hotel
besides."
"If I'm putting on flesh," said Doyle, "it's a queer thing, for the
life's fair tormented out of me."
"Simpkins, I suppose," said Meldon.
"The same," said Doyle. "The like of that man for making trouble in a
place I never seen; no, nor nobody else."
"I hear," said Meldon, "that the doctor's thinking of poisoning him."
"Whoever told you that told you a lie," said Dr. O'Donoghue; "not but
what--"
"Myself and the doctor," said Doyle, "was making up plans when you come
in on us. We was thinking of what you might call an ambuscade, worked so
as we'd get the better of him without his being able to take the law of
us; and he's mighty fond of the law, that same gentleman--too fond.
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