“That’s what Carl said, but Dr. Cornby, you have to come out to see the horse,” said Mrs. Meadows desperately. “Jim is absolutely heartbroken. Even if you can’t do a thing, it will make him feel better. That’s really why I want you to come, for Jim as much as the horse. I want him to know that everything possible is being done.”
“Certainly, Mrs. Meadows,” said Cornby. “I’ll be right out. I owe that boy of yours a good turn anyhow. Keep the horse as quiet as possible in the meantime.”
“What’s happened?” asked the editor when Cornby hung up the receiver.
“There was a fire out at the Meadows’ place. That mustang kicked his way out of the barn, jumped a fence, and woke up the family. The trouble is he broke his leg in the process.”
“That kid’ll never get over this,” said Arnold sympathetically. “Any chance of setting the horse’s leg?”
“I don’t know,” said Cornby, shaking his gray head slowly. “Depends on what the break is like. It’s pretty high, which is bad. However, I’ve got to see what I can do.”
The two men went to the veterinarian’s office, where the doctor got his bag. After he had all his instruments carefully stowed, he pulled out a heavy sack from the closet.
“What’s in that?” asked Arnold.
“Quick-setting plaster,” replied Cornby. “I hope we can use it. Otherwise it’s this.” He pulled a forty-five from his desk drawer, examined it, inserted a clip and stuck it in his pocket.
“Look,” said Arnold, “how about that new-fangled splint you used on your dog? Wouldn’t something like that work?”