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I'm going back to Medicine Bend to Doc Torpy." In the morning Whispering Smith, who had cleansed and dressed the wound and felt sure the bullet had not penetrated the skull, offered no objection to the proposal beyond cautioning him to ride slowly. "You can go down part way with the prisoners, Bill," suggested Whispering Smith.
And Henry de Spain, when he heard this miserable creature had been taken to the hospital, and Doctor Torpy said she could never get well, told the Sister to take care of her and send the bills to him, because he knew her father and mother in Medicine Bend and went to school with her there when she was a decent girl.
"She ain't really fit to ride a step," confided the Scotch boss with growing confidence. "But she's been going up two or three times now to get some medicine from Doc Torpy that's the way of it. There's a nice girl, sir in a bunch o' ruffians, I know though old Duke, she lives with, he ain't a half-bad man except for too many cards; I used to work for him but I call her a nice girl.
She shrank back as if struck. She tried to speak. Her tongue refused its office. De Spain held a package out in his hand. "Doctor Torpy asked me to give you this." "Doctor Torpy? What is it?" "I really don't know I suppose it is medicine." She heard her uncle turn in his bed at the sound of voices.
He could neither sit a horse, nor sit in a wagon. Doctor Torpy, after an examination, told him he was booked for the hospital. A stream of profane protest made no difference with his adviser, and, after many threats and hard words, to the hospital the hard-shelled mountaineer was taken.
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