“I can’t tell till I have unlaced his boot,” he replied. “Tell me if I hurt you much, my lad.”
“It don’t hurt,” said Jack faintly. “I can’t feel at all.”
It was rather hard work to get the boot off; but at last it was free, and the doctor inspected a double row of red spots, two of which bled a little, but not much.
“I’m beginning to feel now,” said Jack dolefully. “Why, he ain’t bit it off!” he said, raising himself so that he could look down at the injured member. “I thought it was gone.”
“No; your foot has only had an ugly pinch; the stout boot saved it. Let it bleed a little, my lad; it will save you pain.”
“What! had he only got hold of my boot?” said Jack excitedly.
“And the foot in it,” said the doctor. “See, here are the marks of the teeth.”
“I thought he’d bit it right off, Joe Carstairs,” said Jack dolefully. “An’ I say, what a coward I am!”
“Coward!” I exclaimed. “Why?”
“To be so frightened as I was,” replied Jack, with a dismal sigh.