CHAPTER XI
THE ONLY SAFE PLACE
When Red Pepper Burns visited James Van Horn, at the hospital, on the
evening before the operation, he found him lying quietly in bed, ready
for the night--and the morning. He looked up and smiled the same
slightly frosty smile Burns knew so well, but which he now interpreted
differently. As he sat down by the bedside the younger man's heart was
unbelievably warm.
He looked straight, with his powerful hazel eyes slightly veiled by a
contraction of the eyelids, into the steady gray eyes of his
patient--his patient--he could not believe it yet. He laid exploring
fingers upon the pulse of the hand he had just grasped.
"If they were all like you," he said gently, "we should have better
chances for doing our best. How do you manage it, Doctor?"
"Temperament, I suppose," returned the other lightly. "Or"--and now he
spoke less lightly--"belief--or lack of it. If we get through--very
well; I shall go on with my work. If we don't get through--that ends
it. I have no belief in any hereafter, as you may know. A few years more
or less--what does it matter?"
Burns studied the finely chiselled face in silence for a minute, then he
spoke slowly: "It matters this much--to me. If by a chance, a slip, a
lack of skill, I should put an end to a life which would never live
again, I could not bear it."
Van Horn smiled--and somehow the smile was not frosty at all. "I am
trusting you.
Pages:
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153