"Well!" Pearl cried, excitedly waving her arms, "he ain't the first man that's been killed by a mistake, I'll bet lots o' doctors kill people by mistake, but they don't tell—and the corpse don't either, and there ye are. I'll bet you feel worse about it than he does, Doc."
The doctor groaned.
"Come, Doc," she said, plucking his sleeve, "take a look at Arthur."
The doctor rose uncertainly and paced up and down the floor with his face in his hands, swaying like a drunken man.
"O God!" he moaned, "if I could but bring back his life with mine; but I can't! I can't! I can't!"
Pearl watched him, but said not a word. At last she said:
"Doc, I think Arthur has appendicitis. Come and have a look at him, and see if he hasn't."
With a supreme effort the doctor gained control of himself and made a hasty but thorough examination.
"He has," he said, "a well developed case of it."
Pearl handed him his satchel. "Here, then," she said, "go at him."