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Show j iLl Doctoi S 't4 I Patient ij ;J j I y H. M. EGBERT t -t-;- v !f t .pytlgW. W5. by w- Chapman.) 'p' When Aunt Sally, the black serv-,nI serv-,nI admitted a tiny boy into Doctor ' '-' .,r'lcr s office, the old physician at j'st saw nobody. Then, looking down, ' ':' Jsjw the dark hair and sunny eyes . ' , i5 own wayward hoy, Harold, as tie bad been at six, and as he always ,. vivjlbe in his memory. For of Har-' Har-' V c'd Carter at twenty he never consent- ej to think- " Hello! What's your name, sonny?" lie asked. , -Harold, please, grandfather! ,V What!" cried the doctor, jumping 0-jt of Ills chair. He had destined his son for his own em- pfession, but folly had succeeded Mci io'jy, and at last there had been a f1"' i;eje at the end of which the doctor l0i c-Jered his son from his presence, tever to enter it again. Harold had ,a!; : er.flled twelve years ago. Perhais if his wife had been living re :i tie eld man's heart would have yield T!?: ed in the end. Indeed, it had softened, '"' and often and often he had deplored t0'"'" ;:e loss of his only child. But his pro-lt! pro-lt! '; tesional cares absorbed all his time zzi left him little for mourning. He was the best loved doctor in a southern south-ern city, and the most sought after. Now and again, at intervals of years, I p. It had had news of Harold. He knew " tat, after roaming in the West, he tad returned to dwell in an obscure : fart of the same town. He had heard e Br that he had a position with a mauu-w.- facturing company and was atoing en. f.jr the wildness of his early years, ock;. But the old man was too proud to seek him, and bis son was a replica of the ;s i' father. S-- Now he looked down with an emo-Q emo-Q i;- tlon which left him speechless at the e s- little boy who claimed his name and, Jer: a-.t.roachiiig, slipped his band confid-m confid-m i::;y into his. ;eer:. "Well, who sent you here?" Doctor is k Carter demanded. :aJ;; "Nobody. I corned," answered the te If.tle fellow, climbing upon the doc- i: ert "I Tried to Keep My Promise." ,,;v ws hnee. "You see, I always wanted of. a ganfa'-her," he continued, "and (.f . Bother said everybody knowed where h doctor Carter lived, only she wouldn't . ; 't me come till father was sick, and i T 11 runned away. And please lii'r- Quick, because father's mighty ' "-V he ended, with quaint earnest- ' '.' ss. 1 tnCK0r arter l00kecl down at 1113 ue boy; then he removed him from ,ay, tokaee. (.ome along, Harold," he said, put- ;ier r'S on his nat and going into the ni: bilege' Where his hiSh-Power automo- , c ni,,Stood waiting in readiness by no'jf J and day. Doctor Carter never Otii hen he would be summoned. s ther'" J 1S the matter witn 'ur fa-6UK- ff ' lie inquired, as he drove the 'tmne through the suburban streets. as five in the afternoon, and he crowi detUr to avoid the shopping or,,,, U was only afterward that it irvi'- di.""ed,t0 him that he took bis main (,: C!ltr0D1 the child by telepathy, 6''; last t boy guided him along the V '' , .M61 and Up t0 the cottage door, the d0ctoryOUr tather's house?" asked child68' 8anfather," answered the om Bm " WHS Qot" The yuQs the i Wh bu,rietl frantically along ho, et at tLat moment spied the and snatching htm from the auto mobile, held him to her breast and covered his face with kisses before she turned to thank the gentleman who had, as she supposed, brought him home. "Mr. Carter and I have a room on thertp door," she said, looking at the doctor dubiously. The resemblance to smite photograph that she had seen seemed to strike her. "I am Doctor Carter, madam," said the old man gravely. "And you are I presume, my daughter-in-law." It was a beautiful face that looked into his, the eyes swam with tears and the voice was tremulous. "Oh, sir, I do hope you don't think I sent sent Harold " she began. "To see me? No, I haven't dared to hope that," answered the doctor. "I have simply come to see a patient." Silently the girl opened the house loor and the doctor ascended th stairs until he came to the room In which his son was lying, racked with fever and delirious, upon a bed. "He must be moved at once," said the doctor. "I am going to take him away to the hospital in my automobile." automo-bile." It was all he could nerve himself to do to utter the words, for a son, even though lost for years, is still a son at least, to most of us. Wrapped in rugs the patient was transferred to the automobile, which made its way at a slow pace into the suburban district where the doctor lived. The story that Mildred told was a painful one. For years her husband had been working for tha company; he had started at the bottom and was just getting a fair salary when he was attacked by a mysterious disease. After a month's absence he had lost his position; that was two months ago, and the disease, which no doctor could diagnose, had made inroads upon his system until his life seemed about ended. "Dut this Isn't the way to the hospital!' hos-pital!' she exclaimed, as the machine turned into a pretty lane and stopped before a comfortable-looking house. "It is my houses my private hospital," hos-pital," answered the doctor. And half an hour later Harold was comfortable in bed and feebly conscious. con-scious. He looked up and recognized the face of his father. Now, according to all rules of literature, father and son ought to have fallen into each other's arms. But, oddly enough, the moment his son recognized him thedoctor felt the old pride tie his tongue and restrain re-strain the bands that were so anxious to enfold the young man's. "You told me never to let you see me again," said Harold weakly, "and I tried to keep my promise." "You are here as a patient, Mr. Car ter," answered the doctor. "You owe me no gratitude; it is my duty to heal with all the means in my power." The young map. averted his face. He, too, had pride. Nevertheless, in the days that followed fol-lowed the doctor found it difficult to conceal the love that came into his heart. Mildred was Just the little daughter-in-law that he had always pictured to himself. And little Harold, blissfully unconscious of anything but loving kindness, was creeping into his heart daily more and more until it seemed impossible that he could ever let him go. And, despite his years of practice, the doctor was unable to diagnose his son's disease until the famous physician phy-sician for whom he had sent to New York came down and saw him. It was a very rare disease, hardly known in America, and, until recently, incurable. There was a remedy now; it consisted in an extremely difficult operation. Only five cases were on record where the operation had been performed; three had died, two had recovered completely. Mildred, standing dry-eyed beside the famous physician, listened to his explanation. Doctor Carter turned to her. "My dear," he said softly he had never called her that before "the decision de-cision rests with you." "Operate," said Mildred firmly. And an hour later the house was filled with the fumes of the anesthetic. Doctor Carter could not bring himself at the last moment to assist. He had sent instead for an anesthetist from the city hospital. "Mildred," he said, "if Harold lives I want him to come back to me. I want you all to be my children. I want my son to to forgive." Nobody knew the effort it cost him to utter that last word. Mildred looked at bim speechlessly. She understood the meaning of his words. Suddenly there was a fresh drift of ether fumes through the house as the door upstairs was opened. Carter heard the operating doctor come down the stairs. With one arm supporting Mildred he braced himself to bear the news he feared. The doctor came up to him. "Well, Carter, it was touch and go more than once but he will live now," he said.' "Live!" In an instant the old man had caught up little Harold upon his shoulder. And, as the child crooned joyfully, and Mildred wept tears of happiness, he knew that he, too, was just beginning to Uva. |