“Will be well enough to return to his duties?”
“Dr. Brady believes so now. He was quite enthusiastic this morning. It’ll take months, of course—months before he’ll be around again. First, he must go to Edmonton and have an operation—skin grafting and all that sort of thing.”
“And his mind is all right too?”
“Yes. Almost.”
“Almost!” snorted Dick. “You don’t mean that, surely. Why, he was perfectly rational last night, when I had a talk with him. He remembered everything. He told me about his troubles on the trail. He asked me if we were intending to take the Keechewan mail back with us. We had a long talk together. His mind is as bright as a new silver American dollar. What made you say that?”
Sandy rose again and pushed back his chair. He walked over and stood with his back to the fire.
“It’s getting colder, Dick.”
“Look here, you gay young deceiver, you didn’t answer my question.”
Sandy looked up blankly.
“Eh, what? Question?”