“But, Mary, it’s perfectly—perfectly hideous to leave you here in this God-forsaken wilderness all alone—and you a woman with a sprained ankle. Neither the doctor nor Andy will consent to such a thing.”
“They’ll either go one way and leave me, or go the other way and leave me. This rock on which I’m sitting is my throne, and I won’t move from it until I have my way. I’ll die right here on this rock, I tell you, before I’ll give in one inch!”
“But a mountain lion might attack you, Mary Temple!”
“Go on! You talk as if I were good to eat! Lions don’t kill for the fun of it; they kill for meat. Only rats eat leather.”
Dr. Shonto was regarding her thoughtfully. His examination of her ankle had puzzled him. It was not swelling, and when he felt the bones he had been unable to detect any evidence of sprain whatever. But her contorted features and white lips spoke plainly of pain. Now Mary surprised him by winking at him desperately, and, wondering, he held his peace.
“Now all of you but Doctor Shonto go up the cañon, around that bend, and stay there till we call you,” ordered Mary. “Maybe you can talk some sense into one another’s heads. I want the doctor to examine my ankle, and I’m too modest to have the bunch of you staring at me.”
With a queer look at Shonto, Charmian led the way up the cañon for Henry and Andy, and they went out of sight around the bend.
“Well, Mary, what’s all this about, anyway?” asked the doctor. “You haven’t sprained your ankle, and you know it as well as I do.”
“Of course not,” replied Mary complacently. “But I’ve broken at least a couple of ribs.”
“What!”