"And Dr. Ansaldo? Is he really good?"
"He has a great reputation. But it is a gamble for Gamburdo alone. If Don Anibal recovers, Gamburdo and his friends will say that it was a Spaniard who saved the President. If he dies—even a great Spanish doctor could not save him. Either way, Gamburdo stands to gain."
In the office Hall took a chair facing the microscope on the doctor's white enameled metal desk. He watched the doctor hunt through the instrument cases along the wall. On a lower shelf, the doctor found his stethoscope.
"Would you please remove your shirt?"
Hall shook his head. "No," he said. He gently took the stethoscope from the doctor's hands, carefully folded it and put it away in a small wooden box he found on the desk. "This is what I really came for, doctor."
"My stethoscope?"
"Exactly." He explained to the doctor that with such instruments one could easily hear through an average indoor wall. "I have a queer feeling," he said, "that with your stethoscope I can perhaps get a hint as to what is actually wrong with Don Anibal,—or, at least, in San Hermano."
The doctor gave Hall his hand. "I won't ask you any questions," he said. "But may I wish you luck?"
"Thank you."
"Now let me fix you a cold drink. I'm not very good in the kitchen, but we'll see what we can both do."