Rich bent over him, and the grateful boy, putting his arms around his teacher's neck, kissed him, and dropped asleep.
CHAPTER XXIV. THE YOUNG FLOOD.
Two or three times before midnight Frank started spasmodically, and once would have risen up in bed if Rich had not held him down; as it was, he clasped his physician convulsively around the neck with great force.
"What is the matter, Frank?"
"I thought I was falling out of the tree. I suppose I was dreaming."
In one respect Rich was favorably situated. He had but one patient, and every moment he could spare from his school he either spent at the bedside of the boy, or in studying his case by the aid of books; he availed himself of the experience of Dr. Ryan, who knew the constitution of the lad, sympathized with Rich, and, in the exercise of a noble generosity, told him he was glad he had taken charge of the case, and believed he would succeed.
The means resorted to by Rich to prevent inflammation were crowned with success; the swelling of the muscles, never excessive, soon subsided, and he found the wound was healing by the first intention, which far exceeded his most sanguine hopes, as he feared some air might have entered, or some splinter of bone be lying loose in the wound that would cause suppuration.
It was time for new bone to begin to form, and consequently the shape the limb now assumed it would retain through life. Rich knew several persons in town whose limbs had been broken and set by Dr. Ryan, and he could hardly recall a single instance in which the operation had been entirely successful; nearly all walked with a hitch in their gait, many used a staff, or wore a peculiarly-shaped shoe. He also noticed that most of the persons thus partially crippled lived at a long distance from Dr. Ryan, and concluded that it arose in a good degree either from a mistaken economy on the part of the patient, anxious to save the cost of a visit, or from careless bandaging on the part of the doctor.