The Lady of Big Shanty Part 21

"You don't say so!" he exclaimed; "that _is_ bad news. I'm very, very sorry. You know my men are my children; there is not one of them who would not stand by me if I was ill or in danger. And you really consider Le Boeufs condition alarming?"

Sperry shrugged his shoulders. "A fracture like that sometimes gives us serious trouble," he replied in his best professional manner.

"Frankly, I do not like the looks of things at all."

"And he needs a doctor," Thayor said, suddenly looking up. "You will, of course, stay until he is out of danger?"

"No, I must return to New York," Sperry protested. "I feel I have already imposed on you and your good wife's hospitality; besides, there are my patients waiting. It is neither right nor fair to my a.s.sistant, Bainbridge. His last letter was rather savage," laughed Sperry.

"But can Le Boeuf be moved?"

"Well--er--no. Frankly, I would not take the risk."

"Then you consider his condition alarming?"

"Alarming enough to know that unless things take a sudden turn for the better, blood-poisoning will set in. We shall then have to amputate.

These cases sometimes prove fatal."

"Then I will not hear of your going," Thayor said in a decisive tone--"at least not until Le Boeuf is out of danger. You have set his arm and are thoroughly in touch with the case. You must stay here and pull him through."

Sperry raised his arms in hopeless protest.

"Really, my dear Mr. Thayor, it is impossible," he said.

"No--nothing is impossible where a man's life is at stake," Thayor continued, lapsing into his old business-like manner. "As to your practice, you know me well enough to know I would not for a moment put you to any personal loss."

"But my dear Thayor--"

"I won't listen to you, Dr. Sperry. It is a matter of the life or death of one of my men--a man who, Holcomb tells me, has been most faithful in his work. I will not hear of your going, and that ends it!"

Sperry rose, and for some moments regarded intently the blue spiral of smoke from his cigar curl lazily past his nose; then with a smile of ill-concealed triumph and a slight shrug of acquiescence, he replied:

"Of course, if you insist; yes, I'll stay. I shall do my best to save him."

"Thank you," cried Thayor. "Now we will join Alice and Margaret. He held back the heavy portiere screening the door of the living room.

"Not a word to Margaret, remember," Thayor whispered, "about Le Boeuf, nor to Mrs. Thayor--she doesn't like these things and I try to keep them from her all I can."

"Certainly not," returned the doctor. "It would only worry her.

Besides, I think I have a fighting chance to save him."

As they entered the living room Alice raised her eyes. Margaret put down a treatise on forestry that Holcomb had lent her, rose, and said good-night. She did not relish the thought of general conversation when the doctor was present--especially after the experiences she had had.

"Ah, Alice," said Thayor, as he crossed the room to where his wife was sitting, "I have a bit of news for you, my dear. Our friend here has positively refused to leave. Oh--it's the air," he added as the doctor laughed, "and the charm of old nature. You know, doctor, it's contagious, this enchantment of the woods." Alice gave an involuntary start and the little ball of blue worsted in her lap dropped to the floor, and unravelled itself to the edge of the Persian rug.

"Not really!" she exclaimed, smothering her secret joy. "You see what a useless person I am at persuasion, doctor. Come, be truthful--didn't I try to persuade you to stay?"

"Yes, my dear lady, to be truthful you did; but I had no intention of wearing my welcome into shreds."

The sense of an exquisite relief thrilled every nerve in Alice's body.

Sperry saw her breast heave a little, then their eyes met.

Thayor touched the bell for whiskey and soda. As the doctor drained his second gla.s.s he snapped out his watch.

"I must look in on Le Boeuf," he said briskly.

Again Thayor touched the bell. "Blakeman will accompany you with a lantern, doctor."

Sperry turned and bid Alice a formal good-night. "Don't wait up for me; I may not be in until late--my overcoat, Blakeman"--and the two pa.s.sed out into the night.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The days added to the doctor's visit were not wholly given to the care of the sick. One morning Holcomb, who had been cross-cutting back to camp after looking over some timber in the thick woods through which chattered a small brook, heard the murmur of voices almost within reach of his hand. His skill as a still hunter had served him well--so quick was he to stop short in his tracks and so noiseless had been his approaching step, that neither Alice nor the doctor, seated beside the brook, had been aware of his presence.

For the s.p.a.ce of a quarter of an hour he stood motionless as a rock.

"It is a serious case," he heard the doctor laugh.

"Very," Alice sighed. "And he will get well?"

"Yes--of course he'll get well, in a week at best."

"And you're not bored in this dreadful place? And are still willing to stay?"

"Bored? Ah--you have been so sweet to me, dear friend," he ventured.

"I?" she returned. "I have not been even charitable. Your gratefulness is almost pathetic."

For some moments neither spoke. The still hunter stood his ground; he became part of the great hemlock beside him, his eyes riveted upon the man and woman. Now she dipped her hands in the cool, pure water, the doctor sitting close to her upon the edge of her skirt which she had spread for him, her trim feet placed firmly against a rock, the frou-frou of her petticoat framing her silken ankles.

"You see," she resumed at length, as if speaking to a spoiled child, "because you have been very, very good we are still friends--good friends--am I not right?"

"Yes," he confessed gloomily, irritated by her words. "And how long am I to be your model friend?"

"Until you cease to be," she replied, smiling mischievously through her half-closed eyes.

"And then?" he asked eagerly.

"Then you may go home," she returned in a cool, delicious voice.

With an impatient gesture the doctor tossed his half-smoked cigarette into the stream. He shrugged his shoulders, gazing absently at the cigarette bobbing along in the current.

"You cast me off like that," he muttered gloomily, nodding to the cigarette. "Did you notice," he added, "how it still fought to burn?"

"And how quickly it sizzled and went out when it had to?" she laughed.