This had
the effect of tightening the linen around the arm, and in a few
seconds the lad was glad to see that the blood had stopped
spurting out with every beat of the heart. Giving the tourniquet
a few more twists to completely stop the flow of blood, Tom
fastened the stick-lever in place by a bit of string.
"That's--that's better," murmured Mr. Duncan. "Now if you can go
for a doctor--" He had to pause for breath.
"I'll not leave you here alone while I go for a doctor," declared
Tom. "I have my motor-boat on the lake. Do you think I could get
you down to it and take you home?"
"Perhaps--maybe. I'll be stronger in a moment, now that the
bleeding has stopped. But not--not home--frighten my wife.
Take me to the sanitarium if you can--sanitarium up the lake, a
few miles from here."
The unfortunate man, who had tried to sit upright, had to lean
back against the tree again. Tom understood what he meant in
spite of the broken sentences. Mr. Duncan did not want to be
taken home in the condition he was then in, for fear of alarming
his wife. He wanted to be taken to the sanitarium, and Tom knew
where this was, a well-known resort for the treatment of various
diseases and surgical cases. It was about five miles away and on
the opposite shore of the lake.
Pages:
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100