“Nice mess, eh?”
“Relieved that I haven’t the responsibility.”
Steel’s delicate hands were at work again. A sharp exclamation of surprise escaped him as he drew out a pair of artery forceps, and held them up to Brimley’s gaze.
“This is a pretty business!”
Dr. Brimley’s eyes seemed to enlarge behind his spectacles.
“Confoundedly unpleasant for the operator. The man must have lost his head.”
“Put your hand in here,” and Parker Steel guided his confrère’s fingers into the cavity, “tell me what you feel.”
Brimley groped a moment, and then elevated his eyebrows.
“Good Lord!—what was Murchison at? A rent in the bowel three inches long!”
“We had better have a look at it.”