CHAPTER XXII—Sunshine
Amid the tense stillness, with the group of sympathetic spectators motionless and attentive, the surgeon performed his duty with the deftness and skill of long experience. Jack compressed his lips, when his attendant said with cheerful gentleness:
“Brace yourself; it will be over in a minute.”
The adjustment of the fractured bones caused shooting pangs of pain, but the patient did not flinch.
“Good for you!” said the doctor; “you are a hero; the worst is over.”
Then followed the application of splints and bandages and the little niceties of a scientific operation. The doctor, making sure everything was right, drew down the coverlet over the shapeless leg and sat back in his chair, and then Mike Murphy spoke with the gravity of an owl:
“Docther, ye were just saying that one broken leg looks beautiful; then two broken legs would look twice as purty; so why not bust t’other leg, so Jack will have a pair of ’em?”
The astounding question broke the spell that had weighed down all. Dr. Spellman laughed, Scout Master Hall chuckled, and every Boy Scout grinned appreciatively, excepting of course the youth who had asked the amazing question. His freckled countenance could not have looked graver had the occasion been a funeral.
“I’m afeard me wisdom is throwed away, as Tim Flanagan said whin he suggisted to his taycher that he tie tails to the boys the better to yank ’em back whin they tried to jump out the windys.”
Even Jack Crandall’s white face lighted up at the whimsicalities of the irrepressible wag. Dr. Spellman said: