Part 6 (1/2)

A BAD CASE

My unsought fame as a medicine man continued to grow. One morning I heard a white voice outside asking, ”Is the doctor in?” Billy replied: ”Mr. Seton is inside.” On going forth I met a young American who thus introduced himself: ”My name is Y------, from Michigan.

I was a student at Ann Arbor when you lectured there in 1903. 1 don't suppose you remember me; I was one of the reception committee; but I'm mighty glad to meet you out here.”

After cordial greetings he held up his arm to explain the call and said: ”I'm in a pretty bad way.”

”Let's see.”

He unwound the bandage and showed a hand and arm swollen out of all shape, twice the natural size, and of a singular dropsical pallor.

”Have you any pain?”

”I can't sleep from the torture of it.”

”Where does it hurt now?”

”In the hand.”

”How did you get it?”

”It seemed to come on after a hard crossing of Lake Athabaska. We had to row all night.”

I asked one or two more questions, really to hide my puzzlement.

”What in the world is it?” I said to myself; ”all so fat and puffy.”

I cudgelled my brain for a clue. As I examined the hand in silence to play for time and conceal my ignorance, he went on:

”What I'm afraid of is blood-poisoning. I couldn't get out to a doctor before a month, and by that time I'll be one-armed or dead.

I know which I'd prefer.”

Knowing, at all events, that nothing but evil could come of fear, I said: ”Now see here. You can put that clean out of your mind.

You never saw blood-poisoning that colour, did you?”

”That's so,” and he seemed intensely relieved.

While I was thus keeping up an air of omniscience by saying nothing, Major Jarvis came up.

”Look at this, Jarvis,” said I; ”isn't it a bad one?

”Phew,” said the Major, ”that's the worst felon I ever saw.”

Like a gleam from heaven came the word felon. That's what it was, a felon or whitlow, and again I breathed freely. Turning to the patient with my most c.o.c.k-sure professional air, I said:

”Now see, Y., you needn't worry; you've hurt your finger in rowing, and the injury was deep and has set up a felon. It is not yet headed up enough; as soon as it is I'll lance it, unless it bursts of itself (and inwardly I prayed it might burst). Can you get any linseed meal or bran?”

”Afraid not.”