His left arm was bitten twice and his neck and shoulder badly torn, but he had not whimpered, nor did he now when I bathed and cauterized his wounds.  Whatever pain he felt, he made no sign, and I knew that by inference my night-talks by the campfire had borne fruit.  Old Christopher, the butler, to whom the Great Experiment was a mystery, hovered in the background with towels and lotions, timidly reproachful, until Jerry laughed at him and sent him to bed, muttering something about the queer goings on at Horsham Manor.

This incident is related to show that Jerry had more courage than most boys of his years.  Part of it was inherent, of course, but most of it was born of the habit, learned early, to be sure of himself in any emergency.  There was little doubt in my mind that there was some of the stuff in Jerry of which heroes are made.  I thought so then, for I was proud of my handiwork.  I did not know, alas! to what tests my philosophy and John Benham’s were to be subjected.  All of which goes to show that in running counter to human nature the wisest plans, the greatest sagacity, are as chaff before the winds of destiny.  But to continue: 

The following summer Jerry gave further proofs of his presence of mind in an accident of which I was the victim.  For while trudging with Jerry along a rocky hillside I stepped straight into the death trap of a rattlesnake.  He struck me below the knee, and we were a long way from help.  But the boy was equal to the emergency.  Quite coolly he killed the snake with a club.  I fortunately kept my head and directed him, though he knew just what to do.  With his hunting knife he cut my trouser leg away and double gashed my leg where the fangs had entered, then sucked the wound and spat out the poison until the blood had ceased to flow.  Then he quickly made a tourniquet of his handkerchief and fastened it just above the wound, and, making me comfortable, he ran the whole distance to the house, bringing a motor car and help in less than an hour.  There isn’t the slightest doubt that Jerry saved my life on this occasion just as the following winter I saved him from death at the horns of a mad buck deer.

You will not wonder therefore that the bond of affection and reliance was strong between us.  I gave Jerry of the best that was in me, and in return I can truly say that not once did he disappoint me.

In addition to the woodlore that I taught him, I made him a good shot with rifle and revolver.  I had men from the city from time to time, the best of their class, who taught him boxing and fencing.  I had a gymnasium built with Mr. Ballard’s consent, and a swimming pool, which kept him busy after the lesson hour.  At the age of fifteen Jerry was six feet tall and weighed one hundred and sixty-five pounds, all bone and muscle.  In the five years since I had been at Horsham Manor there had not been a day when he was ill, and except for an occasional accident such as the adventure with the lynx, not one when I had called in the services of a doctor.  Physically at least I had so far succeeded, for in this respect Jerry was perfection.