“Davy Ross, Miss Ross’s nephew. I think you know her, Doctor Leighton.”
“To be sure. So that’s her nephew. I’d forgotten him.”
“What’s wrong with him, Doctor?”
“Can’t say yet. I’ll telephone Miss Ross right away that there’s no immediate danger. Fine woman, Miss Ross.”
“I’m going back there myself, Doctor, so if there is any message—?”
“Can’t say yet, but you might tell her that I will look after him. Knew his father,” said the surgeon, cleaning his glasses and replacing them. “May have to operate. That wound above his ear, you know.”
“That was a rifle bullet. He got shot up North last year.”
“H-u-m-m. Well, we’ll see.”
CHAPTER XVII—NEWS FROM LOST FARM
“I think I shall come in the evening. It will be much cooler and more pleasant for him, Doctor. Yes, if you will, please. It’s two o’clock now. About six o’clock. Thank you.”