Before eating a mouthful himself he prepared a bowl of broth for his patient, which the latter managed to swallow after many attempts and painful effort.
Cabot ate ravenously, and, after his meal, felt once more ready to face any number of difficulties.

First he went to the bedside of his host and said: "Now, Mr.Homolupus, I want to find out what is the trouble and what I can do for you.

Are you wounded, or just naturally ill ?" The man looked at his questioner for a moment, as though he were on the point of speaking.

Then he seemed to change his mind, and, reaching for a pencil and pad that lay close at hand, he wrote: "I am shot in the chest." "Who--I mean how----" began Cabot, and then, realising that his curiosity could well wait, he added: "But, with your permission, I will examine the wound and see if there is anything I can do." With this he sought and gently removed a blood-soaked bandage, thereby disclosing a sight so ghastly that it almost unnerved him.

The wound was so terrible, and the loss of blood from it had evidently been so great, that how even the giant frame of the man-wolf could have survived it was amazing.