"What sort of a doctor would they consider
me?"
"They'd certainly give you credit for being careful, and that's what
appeals to a mother, you know," said Bonner still more sagely. "Besides,
it's _my_ leg, doctor, and I'll have it treated my way. I think a couple
of weeks more under your care will put me straight. Mother has to
consider me, that's all. I wish you'd stop in to-morrow and change these
bandages, doctor; if you don't mind--"
"Doc" Smith was not slow. He saw more than Bonner thought, so he winked
to himself as he crossed over to his office. At the corner he met
Anderson Crow.
"Say, Anderson," he said, half chuckling, "that young Bonner has had a
relapse."
"Thunderation!"
"He can't be moved for a week or two."
"Will you have to cut it off?"
"The leg?"
"Certainly. That's the only thing that pains him, ain't it?"
"I think not. I'm going to put his heart in a sling," said Smith,
laughing heartily at what he thought would be taken as a brilliant piece
of jesting. But he erred. Anderson went home in a great flurry and
privately cautioned every member of the household, including Rosalie, to
treat Bonner with every consideration, as his heart was weak and liable
to give him great trouble. Above all, he cautioned them to keep the
distressing news from Bonner. It would discourage him mightily. For a
full week Anderson watched Bonner with anxious eyes, writhing every
time the big fellow exerted himself, groaning when he gave vent to his
hearty laugh.
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