Horace Annesley Vachell,
Bunch Grass: A Chronicle of Life on a Cattle Ranch
“ At nine, when our nerves had been strained to breaking-point, Ajax and a big-bearded stranger galloped up to Greiffenhagen's house."It's Doc. Elkins, of San Lorenzy," said a hired man."The boys are sinking!" sobbed Mrs. Greiffenhagen. "Where is the Professor?""I left him in San Lorenzo."Elkins and Ajax rushed upstairs and into the Greiffenhagen bedroom. Elkins glanced at Pete, felt his pulse, and then said deliberately--"My man, you're dying of sheer funk! You've poisoned yourself with nothing more deadly than good Kentucky whisky! In six hours you'll be perfectly well again." ”
