"POP"
agony. Hour after hour he sat there and passed with her through that crucifixion that follows some capital operations.
On his refusal at luncheon time to leave the bedside Miss Fletcher ignored the rules and sent him a tray; but when night came and he still refused to go, she became impatient.
"You can't stay in here to-night, Mr. Hawkins," she said firmly. "I have asked one of the orderlies, who lives nearby, to take you home with him. We can send for you if there is any change. I must insist that you go now."
"Ain't I made it cl'ar from the start," cried Pop angrily, "thet I ain't a-goin' to be druv out? You-uns kin call me muley-headed or whutever you've a mind to. Sal's always stood by me, and by golly, I'm a-goin' to stand by Sal!"
His raised voice roused the patient, and a feeble summons brought Miss Fletcher to the bedside.
"Say," plead the girl faintly, "don't rile Pop. He's the—fightenest man—in Breathitt—when his blood's—up."
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