After an uneasy truce, Milford Streeter arrives with a cure for Buck Crenshaw’s catarrh (cold), but it all goes terribly wrong . . .
After a tentative knock at the door, Streeter let himself in. “Buck,” he whispered.
“What are you doing here?”
“Your catarrh, sir. I’ve come with a poultice and my grandmother’s famous potion to help you,” Streeter explained.
“Thank you, Streeter, but I prefer the surgeon’s cures if bed rest doesn’t help.”
“My whole family swears by this recipe, and it’s good for energy. I take it myself when I’m feeling low and it does some good. Go on . . . it tastes bad, but . . .”
“All right, I’ll try the medicine, but not the poultice. I have a big class tomorrow and a little extra energy can’t hurt.” Buck sipped the bottle. “That wasn’t too bad. How long before it starts to…
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