But the patient scarcely felt it when he ran a probe through the hand till it all but protruded through the skin on the inner side. The bad blood was spooned out, and then the deep cavity swallowed about six inches of iodoform gauze. When the wound had been carefully packed the hand was bandaged. For nearly an hour’s work requiring the exercise of rare skill and the utmost caution the charge was—a dollar. And that included a pair of canvas gloves and another pair of rubber mitts, of the Doctor’s own devising, drawn over the bandages and tied so that the man might continue at his work without getting salt-water or any contaminating substance in the wound and so infecting it badly. These two importunate telegrams arrived while he was paying a flying visit to headquarters at St. Anthony: “Do your best to come and operate me I have an abscess under right tonsil will give you coal for your steamer am getting pretty weak. Capt. J. N. Coté, Long Point.” A second telegram arriving almost simultaneously from the same man read: “Please come as fast as you can to operate me in the throat and save my life.” Captain Coté is the keeper of the Greenly Island Lighthouse, near Blanc Sablon. It is a very important station. The Doctor, true to form, at once made up his mind to go. Greenly Island is about 100 miles from St. Anthony, and on the opposite side of the Straits, on the Canadian side of the line that divides Canadian Labrador from Newfoundland Labrador. The short cut took us through Carpoon (Quirpon) Tickle, and there we spent the night, for much as the Doctor wanted to push ahead the wind made the Strait so rough that—having it against us—the _Strathcona_ could not have made headway. “I remember,” said the Doctor with a smile, “that once we steamed all night in Bonavista Bay, full speed ahead, and in the morning found ourselves exactly where we were the night before. Coal is too scarce now.” On one occasion the _Strathcona_ distinguished herself by going ashore with all sails set.