"Can you pull him through?" was the anxious question.
"Hope to. The next few hours will tell. But it's an odd case. His name is Taber?"
"Howard Taber."
"Confidentially, I'm assured that he has another."
"What gives you that idea?"
"Well, we could find no letter of credit, no letters, no labels in his clothes—not a single clew to his real identity. And stony broke."
"Not quite," replied the manager. "He left an envelope with some money in it. Perhaps I'd better open it now." The envelope contained exactly five hundred dollars. "How long will he be laid up?"
"Three or four weeks, if he doesn't peg out during the night."
The manager began some computations. "There won't be much left for you," he said.
"That's usual. There never is much left for me. But I'm not worrying about that. The thing is to get the patient on his feet. He may have resources of which we know nothing," the doctor added optimistically.