r voices
grew less distinguishable, but presently I heard Orme say, "Yes, I'm
game to do it, if the man says so." Then he came and stooped down beside
me.

"Mr. Cowles," said he, "you're rather badly off. That arrow head ought
to come out, but the risk of going after it is very great. I am willing
to do what you say. If you decide that you would like me to operate for
it, I will do so. It's only right for me to tell you that it lies very
close to the carotid artery, and that it will be an extraordinarily nice
operation to get it out without--well, you know--"

I looked up into his face, that strange face which I was now beginning
so well to know--the face of my enemy. I knew it was the face of a
murderer, a man who would have no compunction at taking a human life.

My mind then was strangely clear. I saw his glance at the girl. I saw,
as clearly as though he had told me, that this man was as deeply in love
with Ellen Meriwether as I myself; that he would win her if he could;
that his chance was as good as mine, even if we were both at our best. I
knew there was nothing at which he would hesitate, unless some strange
freak in his nature might influence him, such freaks as come to the
lightning, to the wild beast slaying, changes for no reason ever known.
Remorse, mercy, pity, I knew did not exist for him. But with a flash it
came to my mind that this was all the better, if he must now serve as my
surgeon.

He looked into my eye, and I returned his gaze, scorning to ask him not
to take advantage of me, now that I was fallen. His own eye changed. It
asked of me, as though he spoke: "Are you, then, game to the core? Shall
I admire you and give you another chance, or shall I kill you now?" I
say that I saw, felt, read all this in his mind. I looked up into his
face, and said:

"You cannot kill me. I am not going to die. Go on. Soon, then."

A sort of sigh broke from his lips, as though he felt content. I do not
think it was because he found his foe a worthy one. I do not think he
considered me either as his foe or his friend or his patient. He was
simply about to do something which would test his own nerve, his own
resources, something which, if successful, would allow him to approve
his own belief in himself. I say that this was merely sport for him. I
knew he would not turn his hand to save my life; but also I knew that he
would not cost it if that could be avoided, for that would mean
disappointment to himself. Wha