"The bullet passed right through the body, eh?"
"Yes."
"He ought to have been dead hours ago. I can't understand it. But since
he's still alive we'll go on hoping."
"Hope?" whispered Drew.
It was as if he had received the promise of heaven, such brightness fell
across his haggard face.
"There's no use attempting to explain," answered Young. "An ordinary man
would have died almost instantly, but the lungs of some of these rangers
seem to be lined with leather. I suppose they are fairly embalmed with
excessive cigarette smoking. The constant work in the open air toughens
them wonderfully. As I said, the chances are about one out of ten, but
I'm only astonished that there is any chance at all."
"Doctor, I'll make you rich for this!"
"My dear sir, I've done nothing; it has been your instant care that
saved him--as far as he is saved. I'll tell you what to continue doing
for him; in half an hour I must leave."
Drew smiled faintly.
"Not till he's well or dead, doctor."
"I didn't quite catch that."
"You won't leave the room, Young, till this man is dead or on the way to
recovery.
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