It was
scarce more than two weeks since Bannister had filled the
bunkhouse with wounded men, and already two of them were back at
work and the third almost fit for service. For perhaps three days
the sheepman's life hung in the balance, after which his splendid
constitution and his outdoor life began to tell. The thermometer
showed that the fever had slipped down a notch, and he was now
sleeping wholesomely a good part of his time. Altogether, unless
for some unseen contingency, the doctor prophesied that the
sheepman was going to upset the probabilities and get well.
"Which merely shows, ma'am, what is possible when you give a
sound man twenty-four hours a day in our hills for a few years,"
he added. "Thanks to your nursing he's going to shave through by
the narrowest margin possible. I told him to-day that he owed his
life to you, Miss Messiter."
"I don't think you need have told him that Doctor," returned that
young woman, not a little vexed at him, "especially since you
have just been telling me that he owes it to Wyoming air and his
own soundness of constitution."
When she returned to the sickroom to give her patient his
medicine he wanted to tell her what the doctor had said, but she
cut him off ruthlessly and told him not to talk.
Pages:
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122