I know how you feel.

But, boy, I'd rather live with one leg an' be loved by Collie Belllounds than have nine legs for some other lass." Wilson Moore groaned his helplessness.
"Damn you, Bent Wade! You always say what kills me!...

Of course I would!" "Well, lie quiet now, an' let me look at this poor, messed-up foot." Wade's deft fingers did not work with the usual precision and speed natural to them.

But at last Moore's injured member lay bare, discolored and misshapen.

The first glance made the hunter quicker in his movements, closer in his scrutiny.