“Sorry the case went wrong, Doctor,” said his colleague. There was a peculiar sparkle in his eye as he offered this customary, perfunctory condolence.
“Thank you,” replied Burns, shortly.
“I didn't wish to seem skeptical, and you certainly have had remarkable success in somewhat similar cases. But it seemed to me that in advising as I did I was holding the only safe ground. Personally I'm not in favour of taking chances and in this case it seemed to me they were pretty slim.”
“They were.”
“I did my best to assure the family that you were within your rights.”
“Much obliged.”
“I don't blame you for feeling broken up about it,” declared the other man, soothingly. “But we all have to learn by experience, and conservatism is one of the hardest lessons.”
An ugly light was growing in Red Pepper's eye. He got away without further words. Only last week Van Horn had been helped out of a serious and baffling complication by Burns himself, and no credit given to the rescuer. From him this sort of high and mighty sympathy was particularly hard to bear.
Around the corner he encountered Grayson. This, as it was so little to be desired, was naturally to be expected.
“Too bad, Doctor,” Grayson began, stopping to shake hands. Van Horn had not even shaken hands. “I hoped till the last that we were all wrong and you were right. But that heart seemed dangerously shaky to me, though I know you didn't think so.”