Into his words he injected the note of affront at being asked—he, the coloured physician of Central City—to assist a younger man. Especially on that man’s first case. Kenneth swallowed his anger and pride, and pleaded with Dr. Williams at least to come over. Finally, the older physician agreed in a condescending manner to do so.
Hurrying back to his office, Kenneth found Mrs. Bradley arranged on the table ready for the operation. Examining her, he found she was in delirium, her eyes glazed, her abdomen hard and distended, and she had a temperature of 105 degrees. He hastily sterilized his hands and put on his gown and cap. As he finished his preparations, Dr. Williams in leisurely manner strolled into the room with a benevolent and patronizing “Howdy, Kenneth, my boy. I won’t be able to help you out after all. I’ve got to see some patients of my own.”
He emphasized “my own,” for he had heard of the manner by which Kenneth had obtained the case of Mrs. Bradley Kenneth, pale with anger, excited over his first real case in Central City, stared at Dr. Williams in amazement at his words.
“But, Dr. Williams, you can’t do that! Mrs. Bradley here is dying!”
The older doctor looked around patronizingly at the circle of anxious faces. Jim Bradley, his face lined and seamed with toil, the lines deepened in distress at the agony of his wife and the imminence of losing her, gazed at him with dumb pleading in his eyes, pleading without spoken words with the look of an old, faithful dog beseeching its master. Bob looked with a malevolent glare at his pompous sleekness, as though he would like to spring upon him.
Mrs. Johnson plainly showed her contempt of such callousness on the part of one who bore the title, however poorly, of physician. In Kenneth’s eyes was a commingling of eagerness and rage and bitterness and anxiety. On Emma Bradley’s face there was nothing but the pain and agony of her delirious ravings. Dr. Williams seemed to enjoy thoroughly his little moment of triumph. He delayed speaking in order that it might be prolonged as much as possible. The silence was broken by Jim Bradley.
“Doc, won’t you please he’p?” he pleaded. “She’s all I got!”
Kenneth could remain silent no longer. He longed to punch that fat face and erase from it the supercilious smirk that adorned it.
“Dr. Williams,” he began with cold hatred in his voice, “either you are going to give this anæsthesia or else I’m going to go into every church in Central City and tell exactly what you’ve done here today.”
Dr. Williams turned angrily on Kenneth.