"He must not talk any more for an hour or two or we'll have him in a fever.

Get on your coat.

I'm going with you." "I'm going alone," said Phil shortly.

"You attend to your patient." He drank a cup of coffee, ate a piece of toasted bannock, and with the first gray breaking of dawn started up the creek on a pair of Pierre's old snow-shoes.

The doctor followed him to the creek and watched him until he was out of sight.
The wounded man was sitting on the edge of the cot when McGill reentered the cabin.
His exertion had brought a flush of color back into his face, which lighted up with a smile as the other came through the door.
"It was a close shave, thanks to you," he said, repeating Philip's words.
"Just so," replied the doctor.