“How many of you belong here?” he demanded. “I 261 can’t waste time on the rest of you. Those who are not directly concerned, kindly step outside.”
“Johnny and I will take care of this,” I told the others hastily, before they had time to say anything.
“Now,” cried Dr. Rankin, removing his blue coat, and turning back the frills of his shirt, “hot water!”
We assisted at the rather dreadful process of resetting a broken leg three days old. At the end of the operation we were all pretty limp.
“How long?” gasped Yank, opening his eyes.
“Three months; not a day less if you want that leg to be as good as ever,” stated Dr. Rankin uncompromisingly.
Yank closed his eyes and groaned.
The doctor resumed his coat and picked up his beaver hat.
“What treatment?” I ventured to ask.
“I will inform the woman,” replied the doctor. “These Californians are the best nurses in the world, once things are on a proper footing.”