"Or my neck—I don't doubt it. But this is quite enough, thank you," retorted the boy. He was white with pain and yet could joke!—it was the sort of pluck Blue Bonnet admired.
"If your cousin will drive down to the gate,—" the young man suggested.
The boy looked a trifle embarrassed. "This isn't my cousin," he replied. "These gir—er—young ladies picked me up after my spill and—"
"I'm Elizabeth Ashe," Blue Bonnet supplied, coloring slightly.
"Of the Blue Bonnet ranch?" asked the medico, and at her affirmative nod he added, "I've met Mr. Ashe."
"This is Doctor Abbott," said the boy, striving to make the introduction easily, though one could see that such social amenities were not a matter of habit with him.
"I can't claim that title yet," the "doctor" protested. "My friends bestowed it when I was a freshman. I hope to earn it yet. Now, Knight,—about that arm. If Miss Ashe will drive on—there's a gate a hundred yards down the road. It isn't big enough to drive through, but I'll meet you there. I've some bandages in my tent. Be with you in a minute."
He appeared at the little gate bearing a most professional looking leather case and various packages that emitted queer odors. His enjoyment of the operation in store was plain.
"Hadn't I better go over to the tent with you?" asked the patient. To have an arm set with two strange girls looking on was evidently not to his taste.
"Too far for you to walk if you feel as shaky as you look," said Doctor Abbott, his keen eyes taking in young Knight's pale face and twitching lips. "And I may need assistance." He sprang lightly into the seat beside the patient and made a rapid examination. The girls resolutely kept their eyes away, but they could hear the boy's quick breathing. He made no other sound.