The doctor had written of their coming, and they found a fire in the back room, and the table laid.
“Ah,” cried Welsh, “this looks devilish comfortable.”
“A letter for me,” said Twiddel; “from Billson, I think.”
He read it and threw it to his friend, remarking, “I call this rather cool of him.”
Welsh read—
“Dear George,—I am just off for three weeks’ holiday. Sorry for leaving your practice, but I think it can look after itself till you return.
“You have only had two patients, and one fee between them. The second man vanished mysteriously. I shall [pg 183] tell you about it when I come back. He boned a bill, too, I fancy, but the story will keep.
“I am looking forward to hearing the true tale of your adventures. Good luck to you.—Yours ever,
Thomas Billson.”
“Boned a bill?” exclaimed Welsh. “What bill, I wonder?”