I'm afraid of blood-poisonin' an' gangrene.

You know gangrene is a dyin' an' rottin' of the flesh....
I told the boy straight out that he'd better let me cut his foot off.
An' he swore he'd keep his foot or die! Well, if gangrene does set in we can't save his leg, an' maybe not his life." "Oh, it can't be as bad as all that!" cried Columbine.

"Oh, I knew--I knew there was something....

Ben, you mean even at best now--he'll be a--" She broke off, unable to finish.
"Miss Collie, in any case Wils'll never ride again--not like a cowboy." That for Columbine seemed the worst and the last straw.

Hot tears blinded her, hot blood gushed over her, hot heart-beats throbbed in her throat.
"Poor boy! That'll--ruin him," she cried.