"Somewhat; though it seems to be more of the nature of an epidemic; that is, it travels through the air, appearing without special reason at one place, and then at another. We have had three cases in the neighborhood the past fortnight."
"What was the result?" asked Mrs. Pitcairn.
"One was Mrs. Wilson, an elderly lady; the other her grandson, and a nephew of Mr. Chisholm," replied the doctor, not answering the question.
"What was the result?" repeated Mr. Pitcairn for his wife.
The doctor shook his head, and, with his eyes on the flaming face of Jim Travers, whispered,--
"All three died within twenty-four hours after being taken."
Tom Gordon's eyes filled with tears.
"O Doctor! is it as bad as that?"
"I am sorry to say it is. We shall hope for the best with this young man. Give him the medicine every hour, and I will call again this evening. You have all been exposed to whatever danger there is in the air, so you need not be alarmed."
"It wouldn't make any difference about that," said Tom; "I'm going to stay with him, and do all I can. I don't care whether or not I catch the fever."