Page 193 - A Little Bush Maid

The little voice was very low, but the lad heard it.

"T--T guess he will," he said, "and that’s better. But T would like to make it
up to him a bit--while he’s here."

Then they were silent. The shadows deepened across the clearing. Long
since the sun had disappeared behind the rim of encircling trees.

The tent flaps parted and the doctor and Mr. Linton came out. Dick rose

and faced them. He could not utter the question that trembled on his lips.

The doctor nodded cheerily.

"Well, Norah?" he said. "Yes; T think we’ll pull the patient through this

time, Mr. Stephenson. Tt’ll be a fight, for he’s old and weakened by
exposure and lack of proper food, but T think we’ll do it." He talked on
hopefully, appearing not to see the question the son could not altogether

hide. "Take him home? Yes, we’ll get him home to-morrow, T think. We
can’t nurse him out here. The express-wagon’s following with all sorts of

comforting things. Trust your old Mrs. Brown for that, Norah. Most
capable woman! Mattresses, air pillows, nourishment--she’d thought of
everything, and the wagon was all ready to start when T got to Billabong.

By the way, Billy was to go back to show Wright the way. Where are you,
Billy? Why haven’t you gone?"

"Plenty!" said Billy hastily, as he disappeared.

"Queer chap, that," said Dr. Anderson, lighting a cigarette. "That’s about
the only remark he’s made all day, and in the motor he didn’t say as

much--sat like an ebony statue, with his eyes bulging in unholy terror. T
hear you’ve been flying all over the country, Norah. What do you mean by
looking so white?"

The tale of Norah’s iniquities was unfolded to him, and the doctor felt her

pulse in a friendly way.