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Willy's head and legs were really free to move.  The doctor's free hand held a large threaded needle and was poised to strike the boy's pale face.
    "For the love of--.  Whatever are you doing, sir?" Julie demanded.  "Are you planning to beat him or sew his wound?"
    She grabbed at that threatening arm and caught a handful of woolen coat cuff, enough of a hold to bring the arm and the terrifying needle down.  Willy did not stop his struggles, though some of his hysteria left.
    "Then you sit on him," Opper grunted, "so I can get these stitches in.  The little hellion won't hold still."
    "He's hurting me, Julie," Willy whined, but there was more fear than petulance in his tone now.  "And he's gonna poke that big needle into my head."
    The needle was indeed huge, as big as the one Julie used to darn socks.  And the fishhook was still stuck in his flesh.
    "Have you nothing smaller?" Julie asked.
    "Smaller?  I had a hell of a time getting this one threaded.  Now here, you hold his hands and his head while I sit on his legs so we can get this done and over with."
    Opper's hand shook uncontrollably, and the image flashed into Julie's brain of the old man's hand missing its mark and poking the enormous needle into the boy's eye.  The end of the cut was barely half an inch from the eye itself, and even a slight slip could spell disaster.  She hadn't been to blame for the accident, but Julie would never be able to rid herself of guilt if she didn't stop this man at once.
    "Dr. Opper, sir, I think perhaps you had best leave this to me," she told him as sternly as she could. Her knees shivered under her petticoats, and her palms began to perspire from something other than the midday heat.
    Opper snorted angrily but did not get up from the sofa.
    "Do as I say, girl, and we'll have this done.  You called me in, so settle down and get to work."
    Her heart pounded.  Horace Opper was a figure of some considerable authority, and Julie remembered all the times she had gone against authority and suffered for it.  Defying the doctor was something she could not do without careful consideration of the situation and a lot of courage.
    "I called you in, and I can send you away.  Please, I was wrong to have bothered you for something so minor as this little scratch.  You may return to whatever you were interrupted at, and I will take care of my brother."
    She heard the thudding of her pulse in her ears and the nervous knocking of her knees, but she did not hear the footsteps on the porch or the slight squeak of the front door as it opened.
    "What is going on here, Julie?" Wilhelm asked.  "Where is my lunch?"
    If she had been unsure of herself and frightened when she ordered the doctor out of the house, Julie trembled with real terror when she faced her father.  It didn't matter that she was a full inch taller than Wilhelm; she felt as small as one of the spiders she squashed under her foot in the kitchen or the privy, and every bit as defenseless.
    "Willy's been hurt, Papa."
    Wilhelm's face paled, then reddened, but he did not waste time venting anger.  He rushed past his daughter into the parlor and knelt beside his son.  Willy's tears returned full force.
    " Gott in Himmel , he's bleeding to death!" the father thundered.  "Do something , Herr Doktor .  You must stop this bleeding!"
    "I was just preparing to do that, Mr. Hollstrom.  Your daughter here seemed to think she could do it better herself, but I think this requires professional treatment."
    Julie sickened.  It wasn't just the thought of those quaking hands holding the needle that curdled her empty stomach; there was a glint of greed in the old man's eyes, and a smile of pure avarice on his puffy lips.  Worse yet, she knew exactly what she had to do, and the very thought of searching for Del Morgan brought an unpleasant taste to Julie's mouth.
    The McCrory boy and his companion had settled themselves on the top step of the Hollstroms' porch to await the outcome of the