As the weeks went on and Emily showed no improvement Douglas Campbell came over to Wolf Bight with the suggestion,
"Take th' maid t' th' mail boat doctor. He'll sure fix she up." And then they took her—Bob and his mother—ninety miles down the bay to the nearest port of call of the coastal mail boat, while the father remained at home to watch his salmon nets. Here they waited until finally the steamer came and the doctor examined Emily.
"There's nothing I can do for her," he said. "You'll have to send her to St. Johns to the hospital. They'll fix her all right there with a little operation."
"An' how much will that cost?" asked Mrs. Gray.
"Oh," he replied, "not over fifty dollars—fifty dollars will cover it."
"An' if she don't go?"
"She'll never get well." Then, as a dismissal of the subject, the doctor, turning to Bob, asked: "Well, youngster, what's the outlook for fur next season?"
"We hopes there'll be some, sir."
"Get some silver foxes. Good silvers are worth five hundred dollars cash in St. Johns."
The mail boat steamed away with the doctor, and Bob and his mother, with Emily made as comfortable as possible in the bottom of the boat, turned homeward.