“Well, there’s a chance; but, I’m sorry to say, it is only a slim one,” was the answer. “It’s too soon to say with certainty, however. Another day will have to pass. I hope all will be well, but now all I can say is that there is a chance.”
Joe felt his heart beating hard, and then, bracing himself to meet the emergency if it should come, he put his arm around his weeping mother, and said, as cheerfully as he could:
“Well, I believe chance is going to be on our side. I’m going to use a bit of baseball slang, and say I have a ‘hunch’ that we’ll win out!”
“That’s the way to talk!” cried Dr. Birch, heartily.
[CHAPTER XVII]
OLD POP AGAIN
Dr. Birch remained for some little time at the Matson home, going over in detail with Joe just what the nature of his father’s injuries were. In brief, while experimenting on a certain new method of chilling steel, for use in a corn sheller, Mr. Matson mixed some acids together.
Unknown to him a workman had, accidentally, substituted one very strong acid for a weak one. When the mixture was put into an iron pot there was an explosion. Some of the acid, and splinters of iron, flew up into the face of the inventor.
“And until I can tell whether the acid, or a piece of steel, injured his eyes, Joe, I can’t say for sure what we shall have to do,” concluded the doctor.