“Merrick,” he repeated.
“He’s over the hill, a ways back. Broke a ski. He’d like you to take him a pair. I’ll look after Mr. Hollister.”
As she followed the lank range rider into the cabin, she pulled off her gauntlets. Her cold fingers fumbled with the ski ties.
“Lemme do that,” Black said, and dropped on a knee to help.
“I guess you can do it quicker.” She looked at the patient and let her voice fall as she asked a question. “Is he delirious?”
“Crazy as a hydryphoby skunk.” He repeated what he had said before. “A mighty sick man, looks like.”
Betty looked into the hot, fevered face of the man tossing on the bed. From her medicine kit she took a thermometer. His fever was high. She prepared medicine and coaxed him to swallow it.
“Where is he wounded?” she asked.
“In the side.”
“Did you wash out the wound and bind it up?”