"Can't say yet," replied the old doctor, gruff with long army practice, "bad enough.Good night."But The Duke's hand fell upon his shoulder with a grip that must have got to the bone, and in a husky voice he asked:
"Will she live?"
The doctor squirmed, but could not shake off that crushing grip.
"Here, you young tiger, let go! What do you think I am made of?"he cried, angrily."I didn't suppose I was coming to a bear's den, or I should have brought a gun."It was only by the most complete apology that The Duke could mollify the old doctor sufficiently to get his opinion.
"No, she will not die! Great bit of stuff! Better she should die, perhaps! But can't say yet for two weeks.Now remember," he added sharply, looking into The Duke's woe-stricken face, "her spirits must be kept up.I have lied most fully and cheerfully to them inside; you must do the same," and the doctor strode away, calling out:
"Joe! Here, Joe! Where is he gone? Joe, I say! Extraordinary selection Providence makes at times; we could have spared that lazy half-breed with pleasure! Joe! Oh, here you are! Where in thunder--" But here the doctor stopped abruptly.The agony in the dark face before him was too much even for the bluff doctor.
Straight and stiff Joe stood by the horse's head till the doctor had mounted, then with a great effort he said:
"Little miss, she go dead?"
"Dead!" called out the doctor, glancing at the open window."Why, bless your old copper carcass, no! Gwen will show you yet how to rope a steer."Joe took a step nearer, and lowering his tone said:
"You speak me true? Me man, Me no papoose." The piercing black eyes searched the doctor's face.The doctor hesitated a moment, and then, with an air of great candor, said cheerily:
"That's all right, Joe.Miss Gwen will cut circles round your old cayuse yet.But remember," and the doctor was very impressive, "you must make her laugh every day."Joe folded his arms across his breast and stood like a statue till the doctor rode away; then turning to us he grunted out:
"Him good man, eh?"
"Good man," answered The Duke, adding, "but remember, Joe, what he told you to do.Must make her laugh every day."Poor Joe! Humor was not his forte, and his attempt in this direction in the weeks that followed would have been humorous were they not so pathetic.How I did my part I cannot tell.Those weeks are to me now like the memory of an ugly nightmare.The ghostly old man moving out and in of his little daughter's room in useless, dumb agony; Ponka's woe-stricken Indian face; Joe's extraordinary and unusual but loyal attempts at fun-making grotesquely sad, and The Duke's unvarying and invincible cheeriness; these furnish light and shade for the picture my memory brings me of Gwen in those days.
For the first two weeks she was simply heroic.She bore her pain without a groan, submitted to the imprisonment which was harder than pain with angelic patience.Joe, The Duke and I carried out our instructions with careful exactness to the letter.She never doubted, and we never let her doubt but that in a few weeks she would be on the pinto's back again and after the cattle.She made us pass our word for this till it seemed as if she must have read the falsehoods on our brows.
"To lie cheerfully with her eyes upon one's face calls for more than I possess," said The Duke one day."The doctor should supply us tonics.It is an arduous task."And she believed us absolutely, and made plans for the fall "round-up," and for hunts and rides till one's heart grew sick.As to the ethical problem involved, I decline to express an opinion, but we had no need to wait for our punishment.Her trust in us, her eager and confident expectation of the return of her happy, free, outdoor life; these brought to us, who knew how vain they were, their own adequate punishment for every false assurance we gave.And how bright and brave she was those first days! How resolute to get back to the world of air and light outside!
But she had need of all her brightness and courage and resolution before she was done with her long fight.
