“Dr. R——? Why, he is one of my best surgeons! What has he done?”
“You may think he is one of your best surgeons, but my opinion of him is that he ought to be hung higher than Haman.”
The general looked greatly surprised, as he had never heard me use any such emphatic terms about any one before. “Please, madam, explain,” he said.
“He is cheating and starving the soldiers, and selling their good coffee, and giving them a little coffee mixed with logwood and other vile adulteration.”
“Impossible! That is entirely impossible.”
“Nevertheless, it is true; and he is cheating you in making up his hospital returns. I have the proof here in my hands.”
He turned pale. “Can such a thing be possible?” he gasped.
“It is possible,” I said. “See for yourself;” and I handed him the true returns, with the affidavits.
He brought out the official returns which had been sent by the surgeon, and we compared them.
“He’s a villain, a heartless villain,” the general would mutter at each new exhibition of the surgeon’s rascality.