CHAPTER XXVII
A Daring Operation
IT all happened in such a brief space, and so unexpectedly, thatCaptain M'Bride and Webb had but a hazy notion of what had takenplace.
A crowd had gathered quickly, but by the time Laddie was pulled offthe prostrate Greek the would-be assassin was dead.
"Narrow squeak, by Jove!" remarked Captain M'Bride. "The beggar triedto knife you, Osborne. Hallo, what's happened to the dog?"
"What's happened to the dog?" repeated Osborne in a voice that hardlysounded like his own. "Laddie, boy, what has the brute done to you?"
"He's broken his jaw," declared Webb.
"Yes, a double fracture," added a young officer in the uniform of theVeterinary Corps. "You ought to have him shot, sir, and put him outof his misery."
Poor Laddie seemed the least concerned of any of the group. His jawhad dropped, and he presented a rather pathetic figure, with hiswide-open eyes fixed upon his master.
Osborne leant heavily upon his chum's shoulder. "Tom," he whispered."Don't have him shot if it can be possibly avoided. I--I----"
Then, with a stifled groan, he collapsed insensible at the feet ofthe astonished and horrified Sub-lieutenant.
A stretcher was quickly upon the scene, and, attended by a couple ofsurgeons, Osborne was removed to the Naval Sick Quarters. Examinationrevealed the presence of a deep knife-thrust that had narrowly missedthe left lung.
"It's a case of revenge, without doubt," declared the senior medicalofficer to Captain M'Bride. "Mr. Osborne was the principal witnessagainst the spy Hymettus, and one of the Greek's relatives orassociates has tried the vendetta touch. Dangerous? Yes; it's no usemincing matters. Even if complications do not ensue--and these Greeksare not at all particular as to the antiseptic condition of theirknives--Osborne will have a hard struggle for his life. One thing hisappearance tells me: that he is a clean-living fellow, and that'sgreatly in his favour. By all means look in this evening, and I'lltell you how he is progressing."
Throughout the rest of the day Osborne lay unconscious. Towards nighthe began to speak, wildly and disjointedly. The nurse on duty noticedthat in the midst of his incoherence he seemed to be imploringsomeone to save Laddie from being shot.
"That's his pet dog," said the principal medical officer when thesister reported the circumstance. "I've heard all about it fromCaptain M'Bride. He seemed devotedly attached to the animal, and, Ibelieve, if the dog has to be destroyed, it seems likely that Mr.Osborne's chances will be greatly diminished. It's certainlyremarkable, but the fact remains. If, when he recovers consciousness,he can be convinced that the dog is alive, half the battle will bewon."
That night the Lieutenant was in the throes of fever, battling,although unconscious, with the grim Angel of Death.
* * * * * *
Sub-lieutenant Webb sat in the verandah of his quarters, nervouslyhandling his heavy Service revolver. Not once, but many times, he hadborne himself manfully in tight corners. He had been cheek by jowlwith death without flinching. But now he was confronted with aproblem that taxed his resolution almost to the uttermost.
With Osborne's words ringing in his ears he sat and fumbledirresolutely with the loaded weapon. Such a lot depended upon thenext few moments, when a veterinary officer would arrive and give hisverdict upon Laddie. If the dog's case were considered hopeless, Webbwould be the executioner of his chum's pet. Osborne, he knew, wouldwish it. And yet, if anything could be done----
A shadow fell athwart the verandah.
Webb looked up enquiringly. A young fellow in military uniform stoodwithout.
"Hallo!" remarked the stranger with a slight drawl. "I say, put thatpistol away, you won't need it. You don't seem to remember me?"
"I can't," replied Webb.
"I was in that little affair when your chum was stabbed," continuedthe army officer. "It was I who suggested the dog should be shot--butI've changed my opinion. You and I, Mr. Webb, are going to save thatanimal--and we start at once."
"You think he's a chance?" enquired Tom hopefully.
"It's a pure experiment on my part," continued the veterinaryofficer. "I have hopes that it will succeed. It depends largely uponthe dog. Compound fracture of an animal's jaw is considered 'na poo'.You see it takes eighteen days for the bones to set, and in that timethe brute's starved to death. How long are you here?"
"About a month, I expect, Mr.----?"
"Dixon, my name. A month? Plenty of time on your hands? Good. Samehere. We're having quite a slack after a most unholy rush. Hope it'lllast. If not, you'll have to continue the treatment single-handed."
"I say, it's awfully good of you," began Webb.
"Not at all," expostulated Dixon. "I saw how concerned Osborne was. Afellow who can conceal his own injuries in his anxiety for his pet isa pal worth having. He's some grit, has Osborne. Where's the dog?"
"In there," replied the Sub, indicating his private room.
The two men entered. Laddie was lying on a folded blanket, with hisinjured jaw supported by his paw.
"He does not seem in much pain," remarked Webb.
"No, it's too early. The nervous system of a dumb animal is somewhatdifferent to ours. When mortification sets in--but we mustn't givethat a chance," said Dixon. "I've had a dental training, you know,and that's why I think I'll be able to fix it up all right. The firstjob is to take an impression. Steady his head, will you?"
Gently but firmly Dixon pressed a lump of soft wax against the insideof Laddie's jaw. The dog submitted without protest. Instinctively herealized that what was being done was for his good.
"Ripping fine impression!" declared the operator, regarding the waxmodel with professional satisfaction. "That'll do for the present.I'll nip off to the work-room and make a plate."
Before long, Dixon returned with a vulcanite plate that exactlyfitted the inside of the patient's jaw. Then the under side of thedog's mouth was encased in plaster of Paris, the whole being securedwith india-rubber straps.
"That'll do," remarked the veterinary officer. "Feed him withbeef-tea and arrowroot. I'll be round early to-morrow."
The grave report concerning Osborne which reached Webb that nighturged the Sub to even greater efforts. He would willingly give up hisrest in order to save Laddie, knowing that Osborne's life dependedlargely upon the success of the daring experiment.
Next morning Dixon looked grave. "H'm!" he remarked. "That plate'scracked. Part of the dog's jaw has dropped an eighth of an inch."
"Is it a failure?" asked Webb anxiously.
"Never say die till you're dead," said the other. "Failure? Not if Iknow it. I'll make something that won't crack."
He was as good as his word, for within an hour he was back with asecond plate, made, this time, out of hard dental alloy.
Once more Laddie's jaw was set, and from that time things went well.Other vets., hearing of the weird operation, came to visit the caninepatient, and all expressed their opinion that Dixon would win throughwith his case.
Unremittingly Webb attended to his part of the contract, keepingLaddie well supplied with nourishing liquids. One morning--it was theseventh day of Osborne's illness--Captain M'Bride came to Webb'squarters.
"I've just seen the principal medical officer," he announced, hardlyable to conceal the state of his mind. "Osborne recoveredconsciousness at four this morning. His first enquiry was whetherLaddie were alive; and, of course, he could be truthfully informedthat he was, and that the animal was well on the road to recovery.Osborne is, I believe, now out of danger. We'll be able to see him inanother ten days, I hope, and bring Laddie restored to health astangible evidence. And, by the by, here's something of a personalnature that will interest you--a copy of a part of to-day's Orders."
"Oh, I say!" exclaimed Webb, the wind completely shaken out of hissails. "What's that for?"
"Bravery and discretion under circumstances of great peril," repliedCaptain M'Bride. "You've won it fairly, Webb. I congratulate you."
For Webb, Sub-li
eutenant no longer, had been specially promoted toLieutenant and awarded the D.S.O. for services in connection with therescue of the crew of the mined _Portchester Castle_.
"And Osborne--and Haynes?" asked Webb. "They did quite as much as I."
Captain M'Bride shrugged his shoulders.
"I cannot offer any opinion," he replied. "All I know is that theywere mentioned in my dispatch. Perhaps recognition in their case willcome later."
On the seventeenth day following Laddie's operation, the plate andthe plaster of Paris were removed. To everyone's satisfaction theoperation was perfectly successful.
"Good old boy!" exclaimed Webb. "Now we'll take you to your master."
Osborne was reported to be fit to receive visitors that afternoon. Aregular crowd of officers expressed their intention of payingcongratulatory calls, but at the suggestion of the surgeon the numberwas limited to three--Captain M'Bride, and the two men who had beenchiefly instrumental in Laddie's recovery, Webb and Dixon.
"I think, in view of previous experience, it would be as well to walkin the centre of the street," said Captain M'Bride, as the trio madetheir way along the lane where Osborne had been treacherously struckdown.
"Rather, sir!" agreed Webb; then--"Oh, dash it all! Now what's goingto happen?"
For a large native cur, emerging from a squalid hovel, had suddenlyhurled himself upon the unsuspecting Laddie, and in an instant bothdogs were engaged in a terrific combat.