“San Francisco.”
“And probably, like too many young men of that age, Chinatown had its attractions.”
Mr. Genung’s face became purple with indignation, but his questioner did not flinch, only a look of divine pity came into his face as the question was repeated.
“Pardon me, Dr. Herschel,” Mr. Genung replied, rising and preparing to leave, “I fail to see the application of that question to my dear nephew’s present condition.”
“Very well,” came the deliberate reply, “you are not legally obliged to answer, neither is your nephew; but as the latter’s medical adviser and would-be friend, I have a moral right to be enlightened on everything pertaining to his good. True, the question asked, though a leading one, is not necessary, for his symptoms are sufficient to expel all doubt; but when a physician diagnoses a case as one heretofore unknown in these parts, he naturally likes to substantiate his opinion by all available evidence.”
With Mr. Genung, family matters were as strictly kept as the Ten Commandments, but the doctor’s last remark disturbed him more than he cared to admit. Twirling his hat nervously, he said—“Supposing it had. What if, for one brief year, his habits had not been such as a parent commends—a young man must ‘sow his wild oats’—how could the knowledge of that fact affect your diagnosis?”
“Make it absolutely certain. I have traced similar cases to Chinatown. It is a far too productive soil for the sowing of wild oats. One sometimes reaps where he has not sown. The disease is leprosy; but, contrary to the universally accepted belief, a cure has been found.”
Dead silence, broken only by a sound of labored breathing, followed this announcement.
“Yes,” he continued, “‘Old Ninety-Nine’s’ cave contained a rarer treasure than money and jewels in the form of a proven cure for this justly dreaded malady.”
There is no sight more pathetic than a proud man humbled. Mr. Genung, with all his boastful pride of race and family, told that one in whose veins his own blood flowed was an outcast, unclean from this loathsome disease, a leper, while close upon this, conscience whispered, “What of the poor victim?” felt a compassion for his wayward brother’s only child suffuse his whole being. Tears coursed down his rugged cheeks and utterly broken in spirit, he looked appealingly at Dr. Herschel while his whole frame shook as with ague.