“While there is life there is hope, Mr. Bruce.”
“That means that the odds are against me?”
“Yes, I am sorry to say that you are right.”
Walter Bruce looked thoughtful.
“I don’t think I care much for life,” he said. “I have had many disappointments, and I know that at the best I could never be strong and enjoy life as most of my age do—I am resigned.”
“How old are you, Walter?” asked Chester.
“Twenty-nine. It is a short life.”
“Is there anyone you would wish me to notify if the worst comes?”
“No, I have scarcely a relative—except Silas Tripp,” he added, with a bitter smile.
“You have no property to dispose of by will?” asked the doctor.