“Should have thought they'd have unsettled your nerve,” declared Chester, looking as if he would like personally to pitch into the entire medical profession.
“Didn't. Just made me mad. I can do anything when I'm mad—if I can keep my mouth shut.” Burns laughed rather shamefacedly. “That's the one advantage of a temper. I say, Ches, don't you want to go with me? There are probably half a dozen calls waiting at the office. I'll run and see.”
He jumped out, seized his surgical handbags and hurried away. Miss Mathewson descended more deliberately, Chester plying her with eager questions as he assisted her. “How was it? Pretty big feather in his cap, Miss Mathewson?”
“Indeed it was, Mr. Chester. Every one of the other city surgeons said it couldn't be done without killing the patient. They all admitted that if she survived the operation she would have every chance for recovery. They were all there to see. I never knew them all there at once before.”
“It would be ungenerous to imagine they wanted him to fail,” chuckled Chester, “but we're all human. How did they take it when he succeeded?”
“They remembered they were gentlemen and scientists,” declared Miss Mathewson—“all but one or two who aren't worth mentioning. When they saw he had done it, they began to clap. I don't believe there was ever such a burst of applause in that surgery.”
“What did the old fellow do? Tried to look modest, I suppose,” laughed Chester, glowing with pride and pleasure.
“He was white all through the operation—he always is, with the strain. But he turned red all over when they cheered, and just said: 'Thank you, gentlemen.' It really was a wonderful thing, Mr. Chester, even in these days. Only one man has done it, a German, and he has done it only twice. Doctor Burns will be distinguished after this.”
“Good for him! No wonder he looks the way he does—as if he'd like to turn a few handsprings,” Chester reflected as he watched the nurse's trim figure walk away.
Burns came back. “Jump in,” he said. “Work enough to keep me busy till bedtime. If there hadn't been, I'd have proposed a beefsteak in the woods by way of a celebration and a let down. I'm beginning to get a bit of reaction, of course; should have liked an hour or two of jollity. You and Win, and Mrs. Lessing and I might have—”