And Arthur had told him a dozen times, Jim
said, that Pearl had saved his life.
"Well then, 't was aisy saved," Pearl declared, "if I
saved it."
Just then Dr. Clay came in with a letter in his hand.
"My business is with this young lady," he said as he sat
on the chair Mrs. Watson had wiped for him, and drew
Pearl gently toward him. "Pearl, I got some money to-night
that doesn't belong to me."
"So did I," Pearl said.
"No, you deserve all yours, but I don't deserve a cent.
If it hadn't been for this little girl of yours, Mr.
Watson, that young Englishman would have been a dead
man."
"Faith, that's what they do be sayin', but I don't see
how that wuz. You're the man yerself Doc," John replied,
taking his pipe from his mouth.
"No," the doctor went on. "I would have let him die if
Pearl hadn't held me up to it and made me operate."
Pearl sprang up, almost in tears. "Doc," she cried
indignantly, "haven't I towld ye a dozen times not to
say that? Where's yer sense, Doc?"
The doctor laughed. He could laugh about it now, since
Dr. Barner had quite exonerated him from blame in the
matter, and given it as his professional opinion that
young Cowan would have died any way--the lancing of his
throat having perhaps hastened, but did not cause his
death.
"Pearl," the doctor said smiling, "Arthur's father sent
me 50 pounds and a letter that will make me blush every
time I think of it. Now I cannot take the money.
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