"But, say—we'd like to fix it with ye—what's the damage, Doc'?" and half a dozen rough hands went into their trousers pockets. But Sperry only waved his hand in an embarrassed way in protest, and added:
"Of course not—what I have done for one of you men, I would do for anybody. I shall see him in the morning"—and he strode out of the shanty.
By this time the little Frenchman's eyes were closed, and he was breathing heavily—he was dead drunk.
"Goll! warn't that an awful hooker ye give him, Freme?" asked the trapper. He turned to the sufferer, now that the doctor had disappeared, and drew an extra blanket tenderly over him.
"Wall, he ain't no home'path," replied the Clown with a grin; "'sides,
I presume likely he needed all he could git down him."
* * * * *
The days that followed were full of joy to Alice. Never had Thayor seen her in so merry a mood. Le Boeuf's broken arm had somehow changed Thayor's attitude toward his guest—so much so that the man's personality no longer jarred on him. He concluded that whatever suspicions he had had—and they were never definite—were groundless. Alice was simply bored in New York and Sperry amused her. That was the secret of his success with his women patients; she was bored here, and again Sperry amused her! Why not, then, give her all the pleasure she wanted? With this result fixed in his mind, his attitude to the "Exquisite" changed. He even sought out ways in which his guest's stay could be made happy.
"You must see the trout pond, doctor," he would say. "Ah! you don't believe we've got one—but we have; you must show it to the doctor, my dear"—at which her eyes would seek her friend's, only to be met with an answering look and the words:
"Delighted, my dear Mrs. Thayor," as he dropped a second lump of sugar in his cup. Whereupon the two would disappear for the day, it being nearly dusk before they returned again to camp; Alice bounding into the living room radiant from her walk, her arms full of wild flowers.
There came a day, however, when Sperry, with one of his sudden resolves, preferred the daughter's company to the wife's. What had influenced his decision he must have confided to Alice—that is, his version of it—for when he asked Margaret to come for a walk, and had received the girl's answer, "I'm afraid we haven't time for a walk before luncheon," Alice had replied: "Of course you have. The walk will do you good."