ust
live, all of us, _till all our debts are paid_."

He made no answer at first save to look her straight in the face
for a moment. "Maybe there is such a thing as duty," said he.
"Maybe I do owe it--to you. I've--not yet--paid enough. Very
well, then."

"Come," cried out Jamieson suddenly, "out you go on the table. Get
a hand under there, girl."

There was no word further spoken. Gently they aided the injured
man to his feet and helped him hobble through the hall and into the
great dining-room beyond, where stood the long table of polished
mahogany. Dunwody, swaying, leaned against it, while Jamieson
hurried to the window and threw up the curtains to admit as much as
possible of the light of late afternoon. Returning, he motioned
Dunwody to remove his coat, which he folded up for a pillow. The
remainder of his preparations necessarily were scant. Hot water,
clean instruments--that was almost all. An anaesthetic was of
course out of the question.

"Dunwody, we're going to hurt you a little," said Jamieson, at
last. "You've got to stand it, that's all. Lie down there on the
table and get ready."

He himself turned his back and was busy near by at a smaller table,
arranging his instruments. "What then represented surgical care
would to-day be called criminal carelessness. Next he went out to
the front door and called aloud for Eleazar.

"Come here, man," commanded Jamieson, after he had the old trapper
in the room. "Take hold of this good leg and hold it still.
Madam, I want you at the foot on the other side. You may get hold
of the edge of the table with your hands, Dunwody, and hold still,
if you can. I won't be very long."

Swiftly the doctor cut away the garments from the wounded limb,
which lay now exposed in all the horrors of its inflammation. . . .
The next instant there was a tense tightening of the muscles of the
man on the table. There was a sigh of deep, intaken breath,
followed, however, by no more than a faint moan as the knife went
at its work. . . .

"I'm not going to do it!" came back from under the surgeon's arm.
"There's half a chance--I'm going to try to save it! Hold on, old
man,--here's the thing to do--we're going to try--"

He went down now into the quivering tissues and laid bare the edge
of the broken bone, deep to the inner lines. Thus the front of the
shattered bone lay exposed. The doctor sighed, as he pushed at
this with a steady finger, his eyes frowning,