“In all this sunshine?  Why, Red!” Ellen caught up the big coat she had brought to the place and laid it about his shoulders—­“you must have taken cold.  But how could you?  Come—­we must go at once.”

“N-not just yet.  I’ll g-get over this s-soon.”

He drew his arms about his knees, clasping them and doing his best to master the shivering, while Ellen watched him anxiously.  Never in her life with Red had she seen him cold.  His rugged frame, accustomed to all weathers, hardened by years of sleeping beside wide-opened windows in the wintriest of seasons, was always healthily glowing with warmth when others were frankly freezing.

The chill was over presently, but close upon its heels followed reaction, and Red Pepper’s face flushed feverishly as he said, with a gallant attempt at a smile:  “Sit down again a minute, dear, while I tell you what I’m up against.  I wasn’t sure, but this looks like it.  You’ve got to know now, because I’m undoubtedly in for a bit of trouble—­and that means you, too.”

She waited silently, but her hand slipped into his.  To her surprise he drew it gently away.  “Try the other one,” he said.  “It’s in better shape for holding.”

She looked down at the hand he had withdrawn and which now lay upon his knee.  It was the firmly knit and sinewy hand she knew so well, the typical hand of the surgeon with its perfectly kept, finely sensitive fingertips, its broad and powerful thumb, its strong but not too thick wrist.  Not a blemish marked its fair surface, yet—­was it very slightly swollen?  She could hardly be sure.

“Dear, tell me,” she begged.  “What has happened?  Are you hurt—­or ill—­and haven’t let me know?”

“I thought it might not amount to anything; it’s only a scratch in the palm.  But—­”

“Red—­did you get it—­operating?  On what?”

He nodded.  “Operating.  It’s the usual way, the thing we all expect to get some day.  I’ve been lucky so far; that’s all.”

“But—­you didn’t give yourself a scratch; you never have done that?”

“No, not up to date anyhow.  I might easily enough; I just haven’t happened to.”

“Amy didn’t?—­She couldn’t!”

“She didn’t—­and couldn’t, thank heaven.  She’d kill herself if she ever did that unlucky trick.  No, she wasn’t assisting this time.  It was an emergency case, early yesterday morning—­one of the other men brought in the case.  It was hopeless, but the family wanted us to try.”

“What sort of a case, Red?” Ellen’s very lips had grown white.

“Now see here, sweetheart, I had to tell you because I knew I was in for a little trouble, but there’s no need of your knowing any more than this about it.  It was just an accident—­nobody’s fault.  The blamed electric lights went off—­for not over ten seconds, but it was the wrong ten seconds.  I didn’t even know I was scratched till the thing began to set up a row.  I don’t even yet understand how I got it in the palm.  That’s unusual.”