He picked her up bodily and carried her in the house, while Whispering quickly tied the team and came in. Len took off her shoe and cut the stocking loose with his knife. The ankle was swelling rapidly, but after a quick examination Len said:
“I think it’s a bad sprain, Nan. Heat some water, Whisperin’.”
Len mixed some whisky with water and asked Nan to swallow it.
“It’ll do yuh good,” he said. “Yuh need a bracer.”
The liquor made her a little light-headed, but helped her to bear the pain of having the ankle soaked in hot water, and afterward Len bound it tightly with strips from a sheet.
She managed to get to bed, where she lay white-faced, staring up at the ceiling. Suddenly she realised that it would be impossible for her to leave within her allotted time. Len came in and sat down beside the bed.
“That was shore some shock for yuh,” he told her. “Yore face is almost as white as the pillow, Nan. Can I have Whisperin’ cook somethin’ especial for yuh for supper?”
“I couldn’t eat,” she said wearily. Suddenly an inspiration came to her, and she said:
“Len, I—I told Mr. Baggs I’d be in to see him in the morning. It was important, you see. But I can’t see him now, and I wondered if Sailor would go to Lobo Wells to-night and tell him what happened.”
“Why, shore, Nan. I’ll send Sailor right after supper. Is that all yuh want to tell him?”