"I beg your pardon!" he said, stepping back. "I didn't know anyone was there." He looked mildly surprised; but his voice was pleasant and his clean-shaven face was so keen and alert, and his eyes were so kindly, that Merle was suddenly no longer afraid. "Did you knock?" he went on. "Were you looking for anyone?"
"I'm looking for someone called Neil Fraser," Merle stammered. "I do hope you're him!"
"Well—I am!" he said, and laughed. "Why did you want me?"
Twice she tried to speak, and could not. He saw the struggle in her face and patted her shoulder. "Is anything wrong?" he asked. "I am a doctor—can I help you? Come in and tell me."
He drew her into the cabin. Merle made a tremendous effort, and her words came with a rush.
"I know all about you," she said. "You've been all over the world finding out all about spines, and now you've got to cure Dick's!"
"Dick's?" he said. "What's wrong with Dick's?"
"It's all wrong—broken or something. I don't know what. It's all my fault, anyhow; cause I went out and the blacks nearly got me, only Dick came after me—and they speared him, and he fell off Conqueror when he was galloping, and lobbed on some rocks, and now they say he'll never walk again. And he must walk—you don't know how splendid he is! He's only thirteen, and you couldn't let a boy like that be a cripple all his life if you could cure him!"
Suddenly she went down on her knees before him, catching at his hand.
"Can't you do what they do with skin when they graft it?" she prayed. "Can't you take a bit of my spine? You can have every bit of it, if it'll make Dick's all right. I know it's quite a good spine, if you'll only use it!"