"Well, I won't just go away—or just anything else, except just attend to that wound—so there!" She was at his side, examining the clumsy bandage. "Sit right down beside the creek, and I'll look at it. The first thing is to find out how badly you're hurt."
"It ain't bad. Looks a lot worse than it is. It was an unhandy place to tie up, left-handed."
Scooping up water in her hand Patty applied it to the bandage, and after repeating the process several times, began very gently to remove the cloth. "Why it's clear through!" she cried, as the bandage came away and exposed the wound.
"Just through the meat—it missed the bone. That cold water feels good. It was gettin' kind of stiff."
"What did you put on it?"
"Nothin'. Didn't have anything along, an' wouldn't have had time to fool with it if I'd been packin' a whole drug-store."
"Where's your whisky?"
"I ain't got any."
"Where's your jug? Surely there must be some in it—enough to wash out this wound."
The man shook his head. "No, the jug's plumb empty an' dry. I ain't be'n to town for 'most a week."