"And you were not afraid to come alone to the cabin for help?"
"No, I didn't mind."
"You're a brave boy, Dan. You've done much for me to-night. Saved my life, in fact."
"Oh, I didn't do much. Not worth mentionin'," and the lad took his seat by the bedside.
How the time did creep by. Often Dan went to the door and looked out. He strained his ears in order to hear the sound of bells, but the wind moaning and tearing through the tree-tops alone fell upon his ears. At last, when his patience was almost exhausted, the door was flung open, and Doctor Leeds entered, covered with snow, and a most anxious look upon his face. It did not take long for the practised eye and hand to ascertain the trouble. The shoulder had been dislocated, and would have to be replaced.
Then the parson showed of what stuff he was made. Hardly a sound escaped his lips as the doctor, assisted by Stephen, performed the painful operation.
"There!" exclaimed the physician, as he bound up the wounded member, "we'll have you round again in a short time. Now, some would have squaked and yelled like a baby, but you're a man through and through." "Thank you, Doctor. You are very good. But how about the little lass? You didn't leave her for me? Tell me the truth," and the parson's eyes sought the doctor's face.
"Oh, don't you worry about her," was the good-natured reply. "Sweepstakes took me over the road like the wind, and I had the poor little leg all fixed up before Stephen arrived. She'll do very well now without my care. But come, we must get you home at once."
"Do you think I am able to go?"
"Able! certainly you're able. Home's the only place for you, though the journey may cause you some pain."