ly on his shoulder.

"Cheer up, my boy, it might have been worse--he is only stunned, and leg
broken. I hope he will pull round again."

And then Dudley burst into a passionate fit of tears, with relief at the
doctor's words.

IX

MAKING HIS WILL

It was long before the cousins met; Roy's delicate constitution had
received such a shock that his condition for some time was a cause of
grave anxiety. His leg did not heal, and then the terrible word was
whispered through the house "amputation"!

It was a lovely evening in September when after a long talk with the
doctor in the library Miss Bertram came out, her usually determined face
quivering with emotion.

"I will tell him to-night, Doctor Grant, and we shall be ready for you
to-morrow afternoon at three."

She went upstairs, and Dudley with scared eyes having heard her speech
now crept out of the house after the doctor.

"Look here, Doctor Grant," he said, confronting him with an almost
defiant air: "you're not going to make Roy a cripple!"

"I'm going to save his life, if I can," said the doctor, half sadly, as
he looked down upon the sturdy boy in front of him.

"He won't live with only one leg, I know he won't, it will be too much
of a disgrace to him; he'll die of grief, I know he will! Oh, Doctor
Grant, you might have pity on him, it isn't fair!"

"Would you rather see him die in lingering pain?" enquired the doctor,
gravely.

"Oh, I think it so awful! Why should he be the one to be smashed up.
Look at me! I know everybody thinks it a pity it wasn't me. It would
have made us so much more equal. Why should I be so strong, and he so
weak! I tell you what! I've heard a story about joining on other men's
legs. Now tell me, could you do it? Could you give him one of mine? I'd
let you cut it off this minute--to-night, if you only would. If it would
make him walk straight!"

Dudley seized hold of the doctor's coat excitedly, and Doctor Grant saw
his whole soul was in his words.

"I'm afraid that would be an impossible feat, my boy. No--keep your own
legs to wait upon him, and cheer him up all you can."

"Cheer him up!" was the fierce retort; "what could cheer him! I know he
won't be able to live a cripple. He always says he is straight and
upright though his chest is weak, and now when he knows it's no use
trying to be strong any more, for he'll never be able to--when he knows
he won't be able to play cricket, or football, or even climb the wa