ndries he had thrown out into the snow.
It contained a table, a carpenter's bench, and a couple of chairs. There
were still smears of dust upon the uncovered floor. The birch-log walls
had been rudely paneled half-way up, but the half-seasoned boards had
cracked with the heat, and exuded streaks of resin to which the grime
and dust had clung. A pail, which contained potato peelings, stood amid
a litter of old long-boots and broken harness against one wall. The
floor was black and thick with grease all round the rusty stove. A pile
of unwashed dishes and cooking utensils stood upon the table, and the
lamp above her head had blackened the boarded ceiling.
Sally noticed it all with disgust, and then, seeing that Hawtrey had
opened his eyes, she made a cup of coffee and persuaded him to drink it.
After that he smiled at her.
"Thanks," he said feebly. "Where's Sproatly? My side stabs me."
Sally raised one hand. "You're not to say a word," she cautioned.
"Sproatly's gone for Watson, and he'll soon fix you up. Now lie quite
still, and shut your eyes again."
Hawtrey obeyed her injunction to lie still, but his eyes were not more
than half-closed, and she could not resist the temptation to see what he
would do if she went away. She had half risen, when he stretched out a
hand and felt for her dress, and she sank down again with a curious
softness in her face. Then he let his eyes close altogether, as if
satisfied, and by and by she gently laid her hand on his.
He did not appear to notice it, and, though she did not know whether he
was asleep or unconscious, she sat beside him, watching him with
compassion in her eyes. There was no sound but the snapping of the birch
billets in the rusty stove. She was anxious, but not unduly so, for she
knew that men who live as the prairie farmers do usually more or less
readily recover from such injuries as had befallen him. It would not be
very long before assistance arrived, for it was understood that the man
for whom she had sent Sproatly had almost completed a medical course in
an Eastern city before he became a prairie farmer. Why he had suddenly
changed his profession was a point he did not explain, and, as he had
always shown himself willing to do what he could when any of his
neighbors met with an accident, nobody troubled him about the matter.
By and by Sproatly brought Watson to the homestead, and he was busy with
Hawtrey for some time. Then they got him to bed, and Watson
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