“They usually have—when anything happens. Well, come over here on this couch, if you can walk, and we’ll see what the trouble is.”
Black demonstrated that he could walk, though it was with considerable effort. Through all his undeniable faintness he was thinking with some exultation that this was a perfectly good chance to meet Red—and on his own ground, too. What luck!
Red made a brief examination.
“You’ve fixed that shoulder, all right,” he announced. “No matter—we’ll have you under a whiff of ether, and reduce it in a jiffy.”
“Thanks—no ether, please. You mean I’ve dislocated it?” inquired the patient, speaking with some difficulty.
“Good and proper. Here you are——” And without loss of time a peculiarly shaped article, made of wire and gauze and smelling abominably, came over Black’s face. It was instantly removed.
“I believe I said no ether, if you please!” remarked an extraordinarily obstinate voice.
“Nonsense, man! I’m only going to give you enough to relax you. I see some good stiff muscles there that may give me trouble.”
“Ether’ll make me sick, and I’ve got to preach this morning.”
“Preach—nothing!”