“I hear Arrowsmith hits it up too much though—likes his booze awful’ well.”
“Yes, so they say. Shame, for a nice hustling young fellow. I like a nip myself, now and then, but a Drinking Man—! Suppose he’s drunk and gets called out on a case! And a fellow from down there was telling me Arrowsmith is great on books and study, but he’s a freethinker—never goes to church.”
“Is that a fact! Hm. Great mistake for any doctor to not identify himself with some good solid religious denomination, whether he believes the stuff or not. I tell you a priest or a preacher can send you an awful lot of business.”
“You bet he can! Well, this fellow said Arrowsmith was always arguing with the preachers—he told some Reverend that everybody ought to read this immunologist Max Gottlieb, and this Jacques Loeb—you know—the fellow that, well I don’t recall just exactly what it was, but he claimed he could create living fishes out of chemicals.”
“Sure! There you got it! That’s the kind of delusions these laboratory fellows get unless they have some practical practise to keep ’em well balanced. Well, if Arrowsmith falls for that kind of fellow, no wonder people don’t trust him.”
“That’s so. Hm. Well, it’s too bad Arrowsmith goes drinking and helling around and neglecting his family and his patients. I can see his finish. Shame. Well—wonder what time o’ night it’s getting to be?”
II
Bert Tozer wailed, “Mart, what you been doing to Dr. Coughlin of Leopolis? Fellow told me he was going around saying you were a boose-hoister and so on.”
“Did he? People do sort of keep an eye on one another around here, don’t they.”
“You bet your life they do, and that’s why I tell you you ought to cut out the poker and the booze. You don’t see me needing any liquor, do you?”