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From the handmade pine table next to me, I pick up the camp newsletter, The White Rock News, and open it to the hue, but there’s no time to read The door bursts open

To the Bone

"The doctor? Is the doctor here?" a fellow of about twenty shouts as four youngan injured boy Fro is covered in a crude bandage of white rags drenched in red and his face is alabaster

The secretary rises so fast she knocks her chair over "Oh, Lordnot another one!" She flings the infirmary door open to reveal four white metal beds with a scale in the corner and a blood pressure cuff mounted on a stand I jump up, throw in to shout orders

"Here, lay hi in the Pontiac What happened?" The young et e, but I grab one by the shirtsleeve "You! Explain!"

"It happened at the sawmill, ma’am Awful bad Halfway cut off Where’s the doc? Is the doc here today? Can he save his leg?"

"I don’t know I’ll try" My infor!" I yell after him

"Mrs Ross, a pan of hot water I’ll need to wash the wound to assess the dae Does anyone in the camp know first aid? Is there a ainst the wall "Coether"

"No medic," she whispers

"Call the physician at the other caistered nurse Becky Myers needs him here as soon as possible"

"There’s no phone It’s a shortwave radio I can try" Mrs Ross starts for the kitchen to get water and then spins around like a top and points to the wooden CB set on a table in the corner "Which first?"

"Water and clean rags first Hold on the radio This

"This it, les from the corner of his mouth

"Yes, thank you, but you can’t sauze in the satchel, get them out, please Don’t look at the wound if you can’t take the sight of blood I’ arette out into the yard