The doctor had refused to advise further without direct consultation. “I must see the man,” he said decisively.
And when John had demurred, he had asked the patient’s name.
“Simeon Tetlow!” he said thoughtfully, but smiling a little. “Why did n’t you tell me at first it was Sim Tetlow?”
“Do you know him?” asked John.
“I knew him years ago, in college. He was n’t what he is now—more human blood. I knew him pretty well up to the time he was married.”
John looked up. “I did n’t know he was married!”
“A beautiful woman,” said the doctor, “too good for him—She died the next year—and the baby—That was twenty years ago and more........ So it’s Sim! I might have guessed. There is n’t a man in a thousand miles that fits the case as he does—Driving himself to death!”
The young man waited directions.
“Send him to me,” said the doctor. “He ’ll come—Yes. He won’t mind seeing me!” He laughed a little.
John started for home with lighter heart. Simeon would obey the great doctor—and all would be well. He even slept a little on the way. But when the train reached Bay-port, it was not yet three o’clock. He hesitated as he left the station. He had not expected to reach home before morning and his mother was not expecting him. She would be sure to waken—perhaps lie awake the rest of the night. He turned his steps toward the “R. and Q.” office building. There was a cushioned settle in the little upper office; he had had it brought in lately—in the hope that Simeon would use it. He would spend the rest of the night there, and be on hand in the morning.