text:  The little kid out at the blanket camp. He's got scarlet fever. Now, that's too bad. Where are you taking me? Why don't you shut up, Doc, and ride? I can see you right clear in the moonlight. And I got a steady hand with a six-gun, too. Oh, Sage. What's the matter, Doc? I got a dismount. My horse, he's picked up a stone. All right, go ahead.