“I haven’t furgot to resint the insult of being accused of relationship wid the family of a spalpeen that is proud of the belaif. Whin Tam coomes home to-night I’ll explain the insult to him and lave ye two to sittle the same.”
“I’m thankful ye give me due notice, Aunt Maggie, so that I’ll have time to slip outside and climb a tree. Which reminds me to ask how fur it is to Beartown.”
“It’s a good half mile from our home, and nigh about the same distance back. Ye can figger out the rist for yersilf. Now, me darlint,” said she, coming to Noxon’s chair and bending over with her broad face radiating sympathy, “it’s toime I had a look at that leg, which would be a big ornamint if bestowed on the spalpeen wid the freckles and rid hair.”
“I don’t think it can need any attention,” said Noxon, pleased to listen to the sparring of the two; “but you are the doctor.”
Her hands were big and red, but no professional nurse could have handled a patient with more gentle deftness. The linen was unwound, and Mike for the first time inspected the wound inflicted by Gerald Buxton with his shotgun. Little as the lad knew of such things, he saw the hurt was not serious. With the removal of the leaden pellets went the cause of irritation. The stumble in the woods had aggravated the wound temporarily, but a rest for even a day would render it safe for the young man to use the leg.
When the bandage had been repinned in place, Noxon felt that he was being coddled more than was necessary. Dropping his foot to the floor, he asked impatiently:
“What’s the sense of my playing baby? I can walk as well as ever. All I need is an ordinary cane. I think I’ll stay with you till after dinner, Aunt Maggie—I suppose I may call you that—and then I’ll vamose the ranch.”
The woman stared wonderingly at Mike.
“Do ye know what he maanes by thim words? His mind I fear is afther wandering.”
“He wishes to say that ye and Tam have used him so well that he will take delight in spinding siveral days wid ye.”