“Mrs. Dooley, could you take your children away to the country to-morrow, if I find a place for you?”
“It’s very little money I have, sir.”
“It won’t cost you anything. Can you leave your family?”
“There’s only Moike. And he’ll do very well by himself,” he was told.
“Then if the children can go, be ready at 10:15 to-morrow, and you shall all go up for a couple of weeks to my mother’s in Massachusetts. They’ll have plenty of good food there,” he explained to the doctor, “grass and flowers close to the house and woods not far away.”
“That will fix them,” said the doctor.
“About this milk. Won’t the Health Board punish the sellers?” Peter asked.
“Probably not,” he was told “It’s difficult to get them to do anything, and at this season so many of them are on vacations, it is doubly hard to make them stir.”
Peter went to the nearest telegraph, and sent a dispatch to his mother. Then he went back to his office, and sitting down, began to study his wall. But he was not thinking of a pair of slate-colored eyes. He was thinking of his first case. He had found a client.