"Don't like the look of Power's leg. Send doctor." That afternoon Benson brought Dr. Stearn to the store, and MacGonigal explained that from some remark grunted by Peters when quite sober, and from personal observation, he was not satisfied with the appearance of Power's injured limb. The doctor, a fully qualified medical man, was very wroth with Peters when he had made a brief examination of the patient. "This is the work of an incompetent quack," he said angrily. "Whoever the man may be, he is the worst sort of idiot--the sort that knows a little of what he is doing. The splints and bandaging have served their purpose only too well, because callous is forming already. Unless you wish to have one leg half an inch shorter than the other during the rest of your life, Mr. Power, you must let me put you under ether." "Why?" came the calm-voiced question. "To put it plainly, your leg should be broken again, and properly set." "What is wrong with it?" "You know you have two bones in that part of the leg which is below the knee, the tibia and the fibula? Well, they were broken--by a blow, was it? No, a fall--well, they practically amount to the same thing, though there are indications that this injury was caused by a blow----" "He fell off one rock onto another, doctor," put in Benson. "Ah, yes! That accounts for it. As I was saying, they were broken slantwise, and now, instead of being in correct apposition, the upper parts override the lower ones. Do you follow?" "Suppose they are not interfered with, will they heal all right?" said Power. "Y-yes," came the grudging admission; "but you'll walk with a limp." "Bar that, the left leg will be as strong as the right one?" "Stronger, in that particular place. Nature does some first-rate grafting, when the stock is young and exceptionally healthy." Power smiled, almost with the compelling good-humor of other days. "Then I'll limp along, Doctor," he said. "I have things to do, and this enforced waste of time is the worst feature of the whole business. It is very good of you to come out here, and more than kind of Mr. Benson to accompany you; but I won't, if I can avoid it, endure another ten days like the sample I have just passed through." "You'll regret your decision later. There's no means of adding that half inch afterward, you know." "I quite understand, Doctor. It's a limp for life." Dr. Stearn felt the calf muscles and tendons again, and pressed the region of the fracture with skilled gentleness. "It's a pity," he growled. "You've made a wonderful recovery. If, when you are able to hobble about, you meet this rascal, Peters, and shoot him, call me as a witness in your behalf. It would be a clear case of justifiable homicide!"