“Looking for a chance to guy me, eh?” I replied. “Really, old fellow, time does not mellow you a bit. Well, guy away. I am not prepared to give you a critical dissertation on this particular skull. This much I will say, however—it has more of the ear marks of the degenerate than any I have seen for some time. The party who originally owned the skull should have been a desperado, or a hold-up man, although he may have passed the hat in church for aught I know—which may be a distinction without a difference.”
Dr. Fairweather laughed heartily. “Well, I don’t know but that I ought to resent your criticisms of the skull. I can forgive your slam at the church, but it is my duty to inform you that the gentleman of whom that skull is a relic was a very particular friend of mine.”
“Oh, then you are keeping the skull as a memento of your friend. There’s no accounting for tastes, you know,” I said, watching the doctor suspiciously out of the corner of my eye and recalling that he had as strong a predilection for practical jokes as I had for skulls.
“Yes, that is precisely it,” replied the doctor seriously. “I have two mementos of my dead friend; one—post mortem—you hold in your hand; the other—ante mortem—is here,” and he threw back from his forehead the long, wavy, dark hair in which threads of silver were beginning to show and pointed to a long, livid, jagged scar that traversed his left temple.
I looked at the doctor in surprise. Although I had known him for many years, I had never noticed his disfigurement.
“I don’t think I ever told you the story, did I?” continued the doctor.
I replied in the negative, assuring my friend that nothing could please me better than to hear him tell it.
“Well, I’m through with patients for to-day, and if you will do me the honor of dining with me at the club, I shall be most happy to relate it to you.”
* * * * *
“You will remember that I was formerly engaged in general practice in the little town of R—— in Northern Minnesota. My field was an arduous one and I could not select my patients—on the contrary, I was mighty glad when they condescended to select me. It’s quite different now; I can be ‘in’ or ‘out,’ as I may elect, when patients ring my bell. Better than all, I can ask an old friend to dine with me at the club. There is a club, thank heaven, and there is also the wherewithal nowadays.”