“No, not much. I'm a little sleepy.”
Barry turned the flash-light on his face. He was startled to find it grey and drawn. He brought the M. O., who examined the wounded man's condition.
“No pain, eh, Mac?”
“No, sir,” said McCuaig cheerfully.
“All right, boy, just lie still,” said the M. O., beckoning Barry after him.
“He is going out,” he said when they reached the dressing room, “and he's going fast. That wound in the back has been bleeding a long time.”
“Oh, doctor, can't anything be done? You know he's got a remarkable constitution. Can't something be done?”
“There are times when a doctor wishes he had some other job,” said the M. O., “and this is one of them.”
“I say, doctor, will you get along without me for a while?” said Barry.
“Go on,” said the M. O., nodding to him.