Thank you again for all your service.
Good-by." "Eh?
I don't quite--" "Good-by, doctor, and again thank you." "Well, you know quite well I can't do any more," said the old doctor crossly.
"No, I don't think you can." "Eh--what?
Well, good-by." And awkwardly the doctor walked away, rather uncertain as to her meaning but with a feeling that he had been dismissed.
"Most impossible person!" he muttered as he left the tent door, indignant with himself that no fitting reply would come to his lips.

And not until he had mounted his horse and taken the trail was he able to give full and adequate expression to his feelings, and even then it took him some considerable time to do full justice to himself and to the situation.
Meantime the nurse had turned back to her watch, weary and despairing.
In a way that she could not herself understand the Indian boy had awakened her interest and even her affection.

His fine stoical courage, his warm and impulsive gratitude excited her admiration and touched her heart.

Again arose to her lips a cry that had been like a refrain in her heart for the past three days, "Oh, if only Dr.Martin were here!" Her experience and training under Dr.Martin had made it only too apparent that the old army surgeon was archaic in his practice and method.
"I know something could be done!" she said aloud, as she bent over her patient.

"If only Dr.Martin were here! Poor boy! Oh! I wish he were here!" As if in answer to her cry there was outside a sound of galloping horses.