"Dying, did yer say, Mister? Oh, yer mean rattlesnake! Pray she may live—pray! Ef she dies, I'll hang yer scalp on her coffin! Do you hear?"
Poor Rafferty, by the intervention of the sheriff, who had a free pass to the show, and was present, was released from Ned Struthers's hold and taken away to the lock-up while Ned hurried to the bedside of his sister's child, Miss Nannie Florenstein.
She tossed and moaned upon her improvised bed of straw, an anguish-stricken few around her; for she was loved by the company. Her lustreless eyes would open appealingly, and looking with tear-bedimmed expression at some familiar face near her, try to smile them a recognition—a sad, painful recognition.
The doctor knelt beside her with one hand on her pulse and one on her bandaged forehead, and as he noticed the weary, faint pulsation, would shake his head, prophetic of her death.
The flaps of her tent are raised, and old Ned Struthers, hat in hand, looks in, asking in a mute way permission to enter. The doctor sees him and beckons him to her side.
Nannie hears his footstep as it crushes the straw beneath his weight, and, slowly opening her eyes, looks at him in an indifferent, inquisitive way. Suddenly they brighten; she closes them as if to think—in a minute opens them with a glad smile of affectionate recognition lighting up her handsome, pale face, raises her weak hand, beckons him to her, and as he takes her little fingers into his brawny palm she pulls him gently to her and whispers something in his ear. She cannot speak loud.
Old Ned cannot keep back the tears as they slowly run down his bronzed cheek and are lost in the shadow of his beard. He has now knelt beside her and answers her whispered question.
"Yes, little un! I'm yer uncle—yer loving uncle! Get well, little un, and I'll take care on yer." He could say no more.
She, poor little bruised body, turns to him a grateful smile of affection, and again drawing him to her, kisses his wrinkled old forehead, while the group who are silent witnesses of the scene turn away their heads in silent sorrow.
"Say, Doctor, can't we move her to sum more kumfortable quarters?—to ther hotel? Her aunty lives some twenty miles from yere, and I'll send for her."