with the collar-bone and ribs. But at last Sam uttered a quick
exclamation of discovery.

Dick's right ankle was twisted strongly outward and back.

An inexperienced man would have pronounced it a dislocation, but Sam
knew better. He knew better because just once, nearly fifteen years
before, he had assisted Dr. Cockburn at Conjuror's House in the caring
for exactly such an accident. Now he stood for some moments in silence
recalling painfully each little detail of what he had observed and of
what the physician had told him.

Rapidly by means of twigs and a tracing on the wet sand he explained to
May-may-gwán what was the matter and what was to be done. The fibula, or
outer bone of the leg, had been snapped at its lower end just above the
ankle, the foot had been dislocated to one side, and either the inner
ligament of the ankle had given way, or--what would be more serious--one
of the ankle-bones itself had been torn. Sam Bolton realised fully that
it was advisable to work with the utmost rapidity, before the young man
should regain consciousness, in order that the reduction of the fracture
might be made while the muscles were relaxed. Nevertheless, he took time
both to settle his own ideas, and to explain them to the girl. It was
the luckiest chance of Dick Herron's life that he happened to be
travelling with the one man who had assisted in the skilled treatment of
such a case. Otherwise he would most certainly have been crippled.

Sam first of all pried from the inner construction of the canoe two or
three of the flat cedar strips used to reinforce the bottom. These he
laid in several thicknesses to make a board of some strength. On the
board he folded a blanket in wedge form, the thick end terminating