CHAPTER X 

 A BAD CASE 



MY unsought fame as a medicine man continued to 

 grow. One morning I heard a white voice outside 

 asking, "Is the doctor in?" Billy replied: "Mr. Seton 

 is inside." On going forth I met a young American 

 who thus introduced himself: "My name is Y , 

 from Michigan. I was a student at Ann Arbor when 

 you lectured there in 1903. I don't suppose you re- 

 member me; I was one of the reception committee; but 

 I'm mighty glad to meet you out here." 



After cordial greetings he held up his arm to explain 

 the call and said: "I'm in a pretty bad way." 



"Let's see." 



He unwound the bandage and showed a hand and 

 arm swollen out of all shape, twice the natural size, 

 and of a singular dropsical pallor. 



"Have you any pain?" 



"I can't sleep from the torture of it." 



"Where does it hurt now?" 



"In the hand." 



"How did you get it?" 



"It seemed to come on after a hard crossing of Lake 

 Athabaska. We had to row all night." 



I asked one or two more questions, really to hide 

 my puzzlement. "What in the world is it?" I said to 



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