"I wonder," said he, "if Gys would go. If you could win him over, he would fill the bill."
"Who is Gys?" inquired Uncle John.
"An eccentric; a character. But clever and competent. He has just returned from Yucatan, where he accompanied an expedition of exploration sent out by the Geographical Society—and, by the way, nearly lost his life in the venture. Before that, he made a trip to the frozen North with a rescue party. Between times, he works in the hospitals, or acts as consulting surgeon with men of greater fame than he has won; but Gys is a rolling stone, erratic and whimsical, and with all his talent can never settle down to a steady practice."
"Seems like the very man I want," said Uncle John, much interested. "Where can I find him?"
"I've no idea. But I'll call up Collins and inquire."
He took up the telephone receiver and got his number.
"Collins? Say, I'm anxious to find Gys. Have you any idea—Eh? Sitting with you now? How lucky. Ask him if he will come to my office at once; it's important."
Uncle John's face was beaming with satisfaction. The doctor waited, the receiver at his ear.
"What's that, Collins?... He won't come?... Why not?... Absurd!... I've a fine proposition for him.... Eh? He isn't interested in propositions? What in thunder is he interested in?... Pshaw! Hold the phone a minute."