He threw the meeting into a
state of great excitement by announcing that the kidnapers would soon be
in the toils once more. In response to eager queries he merely stated
that he had a valuable clew, which could not be divulged without
detriment to the cause. Everybody went home that night with the
assurance that the fugitives would soon be taken. Anderson promised the
town board that he would not take them until the jail was repaired.
It was almost a fortnight before Wicker Bonner was able to walk about
with crutches. The wound in his leg was an ugly one and healed slowly.
His uncle, the Congressman, sent up a surgeon from New York, but that
worthy approved of "Doc" Smith's methods, and abruptly left the young
man to the care of an excellent nurse, Rosalie Gray. Congressman
Bonner's servants came over every day or two with books, newspapers,
sweetmeats, and fresh supplies from the city, but it was impossible for
them to get any satisfaction from the young man in reply to their
inquiries as to when he expected to return to the big house across the
river. Bonner was beginning to hate the thought of giving up Rosalie's
readings, her ministrations, and the no uncertain development of his own
opinions as to her personal attractiveness.
"I don't know when I'll be able to walk, Watkins," he said to the
caretaker. "I'm afraid my heart is affected.
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