Will You Help Me Find My Way to the Emergency Hospital?”
“Oh, Doctor! Can’t it it be Saved?”
“I feel a hundred per cent better already,” he said to Shesa as she kissed him good-night. “In the morning I’ll be well.”
But in the morning the doctors shook their heads. “I’m afraid that arm will have to be amputated,” said the chief surgeon.
“Oh, Doctor!” exclaimed Shesa, “can’t it be saved?”
“If it is saved,” said the doctor gruffly, not liking to show how sorry he was for the pretty nurse, “it will be saved for a dead man. A neglected infected wound, even small, may mean gangrene. This is a large, badly neglected infected wound!”
Shesa bit her lips and held back the tears, saying, “Of course, if it’s to save his life, Doctor—” Then she went out to telegraph to her family.
The telegram read: