"Can't do that," he muttered. His voice died away to an anguished whisper. "Buck up!" was all she could hear; and once he carried her hand to his mouth, holding it against his lips as though with it he might hold back the cries to utter which would have been crueller to him than pain itself.
It seemed an eternity before she heard the gate of the yard bang, and quick strides across the verandah. The doctor came in, switching on another light. His eyes dwelt pityingly for a moment on the boy's ravaged face.
"Having a bad time, old man?" he said quietly. "Let's see if we can help you."
He asked a few questions, his hands busy with Dick's arm. There was a prick with a hypodermic needle, and presently it was as though a merciful hand had sponged the lines of agony from Dick's face. His lips relaxed their grim line, and the torment died out of his eyes. Mrs. Lester felt his clutching fingers curl themselves loosely in her palm.
"That's ripping!" he murmured sleepily. "Thanks, ever so!" His eyelids drooped and closed.
Mrs. Lester's head went down on the bed-side. She was shaking with suppressed sobs.
"The trouble is, I haven't enough of the stuff," the doctor told Mr. Warner presently on the verandah. "I'd had a sudden run on my stock—unusual series of cases, and a fool of a maid smashed a bottle in dusting the surgery. I wired Perth for more just before your car came, but I hadn't much to bring up here with me. Brereton will bring some with him, of course, but he can't get here before morning."
"And you haven't enough to keep the boy out of pain?"
The doctor shook his head.
"Not nearly. I've been using it most cautiously all the time; there'd be none left now but for that splendid sleep he had during the day. Now—well, we can only hope that he may sleep again."