And so Doctor Joe recalled himself to the present, and its necessities and obligations. What could he do? There was Thomas up in the cabin lying helpless with a broken leg, and Jamie going blind.
“If I were only the man I once was! If I were only the man I should be!” he mused. “Then I might help them. But I’m a pretty useless stick here, or anywhere. I’ve lost courage and ability. I’m not even an ordinary trapper.”
It was a hard problem to solve. The breaking of Thomas’s leg would not ordinarily have been so serious a matter. But Jamie’s eyes were at stake. If Jamie were to go to New York to be operated upon there must be money. If Thomas could not hunt, where possibly could the money be had?
“Well,” said he finally, “I don’t see any way just at present, but there’s no use worrying. If I worry they’ll all worry, and it will do them no good. I’ll do my level best, and put a cheerful face on things, and keep smiling. That seems to be all there is to do just now.”
With this decision Doctor Joe turned sharply upon his heel and strode briskly back to the cabin, singing as he went and as he entered:
“Old Worry’s my foe, and he always brings woe,
And he follows about wherever I go.
He’s always on hand, and he makes the world blue,
And all about troubles that never come true.
“The worst of my foes are worries and woes,