"Say, you're smart, ain't yeh! But I got a young feller that's broke his
leg and--"
"His leg?" said the maid indifferently. "Well, he's got another?"
"Yes, you bet he has, but one leg ain't much good without the other. How
would you like to hop around on one leg? And he's hurt inside, too,
his lights, I guess, and other things." Sam's anatomical knowledge was
somewhat vague. "And besides, his girl's takin' on awful."
"Oh, is she indeed?" replied the maid, this item apparently being to her
of the very slightest importance.
"Say, if you only saw her," said Sam.
"Pretty, I suppose," said the maid with a touch of scorn.
"Pretty? No, ugly as a hedge fence. But say, I wish she was here right
now. She'd bring you to your--to time, you bet."
"Would she, now? I'd sort her." And the little maid's black eyes
snapped.
"Say, what'll I do? Jist got to have a doctor."
"Ye'll no git him till to-morrow."
"To-morrow?"
"How far oot are ye?"
"Twelve miles."
"Twelve miles? Ye'll no get him a minute afore to-morrow noon."
"Say, that young feller'll croak, sure. Away from home too. No friends.
All his folks in Scotland."
"Scotland, did ye say?" Something appeared to wake up in the little
maid. "Look here, why don't ye get a doctor instead o' daunderin' your
time here?"
"Git a doctor?" echoed Sam in vast surprise.
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