Explore "The Riddle of Three-Way Creek" by Ridgwell Cullum on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Lightning had never made the trip into Hartspool at such a speed. His horse had understood the thing expected of it at the moment of setting out. The savage Mexican spurs on the old man's heels had told the willing creature all and more than it wanted to know, and Lightning had raced into the busy township. He had ignored every familiar stopping-place. He wanted none of them. He rode straight on to Doc Blanchard's house.
The doctor was away -- gone for a prolonged holiday to the east. Lightning blasphemed, as was inevitable. But the hired man who informed him could give not a glimmer of hope. The Doc, he assured him, wouldn't return in weeks, maybe months. It was a medical conference of very great importance. And in the end the old man was forced to return home, disappointed, hopeless, helpless.