“You are in Donald Maxwell’s tent. This was the nearest place where we could bring you at the time of the accident.”
For a moment a vestige of color appeared in Bascom’s face, and he whispered hoarsely:
“Why didn’t you take me home?”
“Well, we were afraid to move you until the doctor had examined you thoroughly.”
The patient closed his eyes wearily.
It was evident that he was growing weaker, and just as the doctor returned, he again lapsed into unconsciousness. The doctor felt of Bascom’s pulse, 257 and sent Maxwell hastily for Doctor Field for consultation. For fifteen minutes the doctors were alone in Bascom’s room, and then Doctor Field called Maxwell in and quietly informed him that the warden had lost so much blood from the wound in the wrist that there was danger of immediate collapse unless they resorted to extreme measures, and bled some one to supply the patient. To this Maxwell instantly replied:
“I am strong and well. There is no reason why you should hesitate for a moment. Send for your instruments at once; but my wife must know nothing of it until it is all over with. Tell Mrs. Burke to take her over to Thunder Cliff for an hour or two, on the pretext of getting some bedding. Yes, I insist on having my own way, and as you say, there is no time to be lost.”
Doctor Field took Mrs. Burke aside, and the women immediately departed for Thunder Cliff. The necessary instruments were brought, and then the three men entered the sick room.
In about twenty minutes Maxwell came out of the invalid’s room, assisted by Doctor Field, and stretched himself on the bed.
Bascom’s color began slowly to return; his pulse quickened, and Dr. Field remarked to his colleague: 258