This suits the sufferer, who is pleased with the attention shown him by the “steerer.” The latter excuses himself for a moment while he “telephones for a cab.” He goes into the telephone booth but, instead of calling for a cab, he rings up the doctor.
“Hello, is this Dr. ——? Yes. This is Wells. Just landed a good one at the La Salle. Will bring him down in about twenty minutes. Name is Smith, banker at Pontiac. Well fixed.”
Then he rejoins the sufferer, escorts him carefully to the sidewalk and places him in a taxicab. The doctor’s office is not far off, but the chauffeur takes the longest way, and during the ride the “steerer” tells of having lived in New York all his life with the exception of the six months he was under treatment in Chicago, and dilates upon the wonders of the Eastern metropolis. On reaching the doctor’s the “steerer” looks at his watch, saying:
“I’ve got ten minutes to spare so I’ll go up to the doctor’s office with you.”
The sufferer is glad of this assistance, and when they reach the office is impressed by the dignified appearance of the specialist who greets “Wells” warmly.
“How do you do, Mr. Wells. I was afraid you had forgotten me.”
“Oh, no, Doctor, I couldn’t do that, after all you have done for me. But, really I can’t stop to talk now. I’ll see you again before I leave town. Dr. ——, this is Mr. Smith of Pontiac, who is suffering the same as I was. If you do as well for him as you did for me I think he will have reason to be glad he came here. Good day, gentlemen. Excuse me for my haste, but I must get away.”
“Fine man, that Wells,” says the doctor to Mr. Smith, after the “steerer” has gone.
“Yes, indeed,” replies Smith. “Mighty glad I met him. He has given me a lot of valuable advice and aid.”
“One of the toughest cases I ever had,” continues the doctor, “but I pulled him through all right, and I’m proud of it.”