ng
reassurance, "and Dr. Snowden is out of town. But we are trying to get
Dr. Bean."

"I won't have Bean," Madam declared, clinching her jaw with pain. "I'll
send him away if he comes."

"Dr. Vaughn, then?" suggested Miss Enid tenderly.

"Vaughn nothing! Send for Rawlins. He's an old stick, but he'll do till
Dr. Snowden gets here."

"But, mother," protested Miss Isobel. "Dr. Rawlins lives in the country;
he can't get here for half an hour."

"Do as I tell you and stop arguing," commanded Madam. "Has anybody
telephoned Ranny?"

The two sisters exchanged significant glances.

"Their line is busy," said Miss Enid soothingly. "We will get him soon."

"I want to be taken upstairs," announced Madam; "I want to be put in my
own bed."

A buzz of protest met this suggestion, and a small, nervous man in
clerical garb, who had just arrived, came forward to add his voice to the
rest.

Madam glared at him savagely. "There'll be plenty of time for parsons
when the doctors get through with me," she said. "Tell some of those
able-bodied men back there to come here and take me upstairs."

Quin, who had been standing in the background looking down at the
formidable old lady, promptly came forward.

"I'll take you up," he said. "Which leg is hurt?"

The old lady turned her head and looked up at him. The note of confidence
in his voice had evidently appealed to her.

"It's my left leg. I think it's broken just above the knee."

"Do you want me to put a splint on it?"

"Are you a doctor?"

"No, ma'am; but I can fix it so's it won't hurt you so bad when we move
you," Quin replied.

"How do you know you can?"

Quin ran his fingers through his hair and smiled.

"Well, I wasn't with the Ambulance Corps for six months in France for
nothing."

Madam eyed him keenly for a moment; then, "Go ahead," she commanded.

A chorus of protests from the surrounding group only deepened her
determination.

"It's _my_ leg," she said irritably. "If he knows how to splint it, let
him do it. I want to be taken upstairs."

It is difficult enough to apply a splint properly under favorable
circumstances; but when one has only an umbrella and table napkins to
work with, and is hemmed in by a doubtful and at times protesting
audience, it becomes well-nigh impossible.

Quin worked slowly and awkwardly, putting the bones as nearly as possible
in position and then binding them firmly in place. He paid no more
attention to the agitated co