[CHAPTER XXV.
OLD JERRY’S WEALTH.]
Old Jerry certainly did look weak and miserable. His face seemed thinner and paler than usual; his thin gray hair looked quite disordered, and there were dark rings around his eyes.
“You look sick,” answered Paul, pityingly.
“Do you think I am going to die?” asked the old man, tremulously.
“Oh, no, not yet awhile,” answered Paul, in a cheering voice. “But you must have a doctor.”
“No, no; I can’t afford it,” said Jerry, in alarm. “Doctors charge so much. They—they seem to think a man is made of money.”
“Would you rather die,” Paul exclaimed, impatiently, “than pay for a doctor’s attendance? What good will your money do you if you die?”
“You—you might ask the druggist for some medicine to help me. That would be much cheaper.”