"It's got to, my man. A couple of days more and you might really have lost that leg, sure enough. I've seen plenty of legs lost, my man. I don't think it'll go much further up--I hope not. But blood poisoning is something bad to have, and I'll tell you that." "You ain't been in this country long, have you, Doc?" queried Wid Gardner. "You come on up and go fishing with us fellers. A few weeks from now it'll be better. I ain't got no woman at my place, but I can cook some. Sim's got a woman at his." "What's that?" inquired Dr. Barnes. "Oh, the woman that's waiting? What do you mean about that?" "Well," replied his patient, his forehead furrowed, "that is, we ain't rightly married yet. Just sort of studying things over, you know, Doc. We're waiting for--well, until things kind of shapes up. You understand, Doc?" "I don't know that I do," said the Doctor, looking at him straightly. "You understand one thing--there can't any funny business go on in this valley now. The administration's mighty keen. You know that." "There ain't, Doc. She's my housekeeper. I'd ask you in all right, only she can't cook, nor nothing." "A housekeeper, and can't cook? How's that?" Sim Gage wiped off his face, finding the temperature high for him. "Well," said he, "Wid there and me, we advertised fer a housekeeper. This girl come on out. And when she come she was blind." "Blind!" "Blind as a bat. So she says she's fooled me. I sort of felt like we'd all fooled _her_. She's a lady." "Why don't you send her back, man?" asked the doctor, with very visible disgust. "I can't. How can I, when she's blind? She wasn't born that way, Doc, far's I can tell, but she was blind when she come out here. Now, leaving her setting there alone, it makes me feel kind of nervous. You don't blame me, now, do you, Doc?" "No," said Dr. Barnes gravely, "I don't blame you. You people out here get me guessing sometimes. But you make me tired." He swept a hand across his face and eyes, just because he was tired. "That's all I'm going to do for you to-day, my man," said he in conclusion. "Go on back home and fight out your own woman problems--that isn't in my line." "She--I reckon she'd be glad to see you--if she could. You see, she's a lady, Doc. She ain't like us people out here." The physician looked at him with curious appraisal in his eyes, studying both the man and this peculiar problem which all at once had been brought to view. "A lady?" said he at last, somewhat disgusted. "If she was any lady she'd never have answered any advertisement such as you two people say you have been fools enough to print."