The child lay upon the bunk in the front of the wagon and her eyes were bright with the pain of the dull ache, and fear of more that the doctor might inflict.
"Is it hurtin' bad, Rosie?" Anxiety was in the man's voice.
"Not so very much, Daddy," she replied bravely.
The man glanced at Dr. Harpe quickly in a mixture of surprise and resentment.
"My sister's—young'un," he answered curtly.
The child winced as Dr. Harpe picked up the foot roughly and ran her fingers along the bone.
"Yep; it's broken." She hesitated for an instant and added: "The job'll cost you fifty dollars."
"Fifty dollars!" Consternation was in the man's tone. "Ain't that pretty steep for settin' a leg?"
"That's my price." She added indifferently, "There's another sawbones sixty miles farther on."