“Well, my boy, I owe you considerable for what you did. I prize that watch very highly. What can I do for you?”
“I would like to get your picture for the paper,” spoke Larry. “The city editor told me to be sure and get it.”
“And you shall have it,” said Dr. Carrolton, in spite of the grumbling of the secretary. “Here it is, and besides one for the paper I give you one for yourself,” and the physician took two fine photographs from the mantle.
“They are the last you have, Herr Doctor,” objected the secretary.
“Never mind, Emile,” was the answer. “We can get more. I would do more than that for this boy.”
“How—how much do you charge for operations?” blurted out Larry, with almost a gasp. It was what he had been nerving himself up to ever since he heard he was to see the doctor.
“Well, it all depends,” replied the physician, thinking it might be a boy’s curiosity that prompted the question. “I do nothing else but these operations, and so I have to charge more than other doctors do for ordinary cases. Mine are very complicated cures and it sometimes takes a long time to perfect them. So I have to charge high fees. But I try to make my charges in accordance with what people can pay.”
“Could you do one for a thousand dollars?” asked Larry.
“I suppose so,” said the physician with a smile at Larry’s bluntness. “Why?”
“Because that’s all I have,” exclaimed the boy. “I got it as a reward for finding the Reynolds diamonds. My sister has spine disease and she suffers very much. I would give the thousand dollars if you could cure her, and then I could owe the rest of the money to you and pay you when I earned it. Will you? Please, Dr. Carrolton, please cure my sister!”