But you want some air. Here, you fellows'--and I motioned
to two men leaning against the quilt tacked over the window--'rip that
off and open that window. He's got to breathe--too many of you in
here, anyway,'
"One of the men moved the lidless dry-goods box against the wall, picked
up the kerosene lamp and placed it inside, smothering its light; the
other tore the lower end of the quilt from the sash, letting in the
fresh, wet night-air.
"I turned to the wounded man again.
"'You say you've seen me before?'
"'Yes, once. You sewed this up'--and he held up his arm showing a
healed scar. 'You've forgot it, but I haven't.'
"'Where?'
"'Bellevue. They took me in there. You treated me white. That's why my
pal hunted you up. Say, Bill'--and he called to my companion with the
slouch hat--'pay the "Doc."'
"Half a dozen men dove instantly into their pockets, but my companion
already had his roll of bills in his hand. He bent over so that the glow
of the half-smothered lamp could fall upon his hand, unrolled a
twenty-dollar bill and handed it to me.
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