Aunt Jane's Nieces in the Red Cross

  CHAPTER III

  THE DECISION OF DOCTOR GYS

  Uncle John was up bright and early next morning, and directly afterbreakfast he called upon his old friend and physician, Dr. Barlow. Afterexplaining the undertaking on which he had embarked, Mr. Merrick added:

  "You see, we need a surgeon with us; a clever, keen chap who understandshis business thoroughly, a sawbones with all the modern scientificdiscoveries saturating him to his finger-tips. Tell me where to gethim."

  Dr. Barlow, recovering somewhat from his astonishment, smileddeprecatingly.

  "The sort of man you describe," said he, "would cost you a fortune, foryou would oblige him to abandon a large and lucrative practice in orderto accompany you. I doubt, indeed, if any price would tempt him toabandon his patients."

  "Isn't there some young fellow with these requirements?"

  "Mr. Merrick, you need a physician and surgeon combined. Wounds lead tofever and other serious ailments, which need skillful handling. Youmight secure a young man, fresh from his clinics, who would prove a goodsurgeon, but to master the science of medicine, experience and longpractice are absolutely necessary."

  "We've got a half-way medicine man on the ship now--a fellow who hasdoctored the crew for years and kept 'em pretty healthy. So I guess asurgeon will about fill our bill."

  "H-m, I know these ship's doctors, Mr. Merrick, and I wouldn't care tohave you and your nieces trust your lives to one, in case you becomeill. Believe me, a good physician is as necessary to you as a goodsurgeon. Do you know that disease will kill as many of those soldiers asbullets?"

  "No."

  "It is true; else the history of wars has taught us nothing. We haven'theard much of plagues and epidemics yet, in the carefully censoredreports from London, but it won't be long before disease will devastatewhole armies."

  Uncle John frowned. The thing was growing complicated.

  "Do you consider this a wild goose chase, Doctor?" he asked.

  "Not with your fortune, your girls and your fine ship to back it. Ithink Miss Stanton's idea of venturing abroad unattended, to nurse thewounded, was Quixotic in the extreme. Some American women are doing it,I know, but I don't approve of it. On the other hand, your present planis worthy of admiration and applause, for it is eminently practical ifproperly handled."

  Dr. Barlow drummed upon the table with his fingers, musingly. Then helooked up.

  "I wonder," said he, "if Gys would go. If you could win him over, hewould fill the bill."

  "Who is Gys?" inquired Uncle John.

  "An eccentric; a character. But clever and competent. He has justreturned from Yucatan, where he accompanied an expedition of explorationsent out by the Geographical Society--and, by the way, nearly lost hislife in the venture. Before that, he made a trip to the frozen Northwith a rescue party. Between times, he works in the hospitals, or actsas consulting surgeon with men of greater fame than he has won; but Gysis a rolling stone, erratic and whimsical, and with all his talent cannever settle down to a steady practice."

  "Seems like the very man I want," said Uncle John, much interested."Where can I find him?"

  "I've no idea. But I'll call up Collins and inquire."

  He took up the telephone receiver and got his number.

  "Collins? Say, I'm anxious to find Gys. Have you any idea--Eh? Sittingwith you now? How lucky. Ask him if he will come to my office at once;it's important."

  Uncle John's face was beaming with satisfaction. The doctor waited, thereceiver at his ear.

  "What's that, Collins?... He won't come?... Why not?... Absurd!... I'vea fine proposition for him.... Eh? He isn't interested in propositions?What in thunder _is_ he interested in?... Pshaw! Hold the phone aminute."

  Turning to Mr. Merrick, he said:

  "Gys wants to go on a fishing trip. He plans to start to-night for theMaine woods. But I've an idea if you could get him face to face youmight convince him."

  "See if he'll stay where he is till I can get there."

  The doctor turned to the telephone and asked the question. There was along pause. Gys wanted to know who it was that proposed to visit him.John Merrick, the retired millionaire? All right; Gys would wait inCollins' office for twenty minutes.

  Uncle John lost no time in rushing to his motor car, where he orderedthe driver to hasten to the address Dr. Barlow had given him.

  The offices of Dr. Collins were impressive. Mr. Merrick entered aluxurious reception room and gave his name to a businesslike young womanwho advanced to meet him. He had called to see Dr. Gys.

  The young woman smothered a smile that crept to her lips, and led UncleJohn through an examination room and an operating room--both vacantjust now--and so into a laboratory that was calculated to give a wellperson the shivers. Here was but one individual, a man in hisshirt-sleeves who was smoking a corncob pipe and bending over a testtube.

  Uncle John coughed to announce his presence, for the woman had slippedaway as she closed the door. The man's back was turned partially towardhis visitor. He did not alter his position as he said:

  "Sit down. There's a chair in the southwest corner."

  Uncle John found the chair. He waited patiently a few moments and thenhis choler began to rise.

  "If you're in such a blamed hurry to go fishing, why don't you get ridof me now?" he asked.

  The shoulders shook gently and there was a chuckling laugh. The man laiddown his test tube and swung around on his stool.

  For a moment Mr. Merrick recoiled. The face was seared with livid scars,the nose crushed to one side, the mouth crooked and set in a sneeringgrin. One eye was nearly closed and the other round and wide open. Amore forbidding and ghastly countenance Mr. Merrick had never beheld andin his surprise he muttered a low exclamation.

  "Exactly," said Gys, his voice quiet and pleasant. "I don't blame youand I'm not offended. Do you wonder I hesitate to meet strangers?"

  "I--I was not--prepared," stammered Uncle John.

  "That was Barlow's fault. He knows me and should have told you. And nowI'll tell you why I consented to see you. No! never mind your ownproposition, whatever it is. Listen to mine first. I want to go fishing,and I haven't the money. None of my brother physicians will lend meanother sou, for I owe them all. You are John Merrick, to whom money isof little consequence. May I venture to ask you for an advance of acouple of hundred for a few weeks? When I return I'll take up yourproposition, whatever it may be, and recompense you in services."

  He refilled and relighted the corncob while Mr. Merrick stared at himin thoughtful silence. As a matter of fact, Uncle John was pleased withthe fellow. A whimsical, irrational, unconventional appeal of this sortwent straight to his heart, for the queer little man hated thecommonplace most cordially.

  "I'll give you the money on one condition," he said.

  "I object to the condition," said Gys firmly. "Conditions aredangerous."

  "My proposition," went on Uncle John, "won't wait for weeks. When youhear it, if you are not anxious to take it up, I don't want you. Indeed,I'm not sure I want you, anyhow."

  "Ah; you're frightened by my features. Most people with propositionsare. I'm an unlucky dog, sir. They say it's good luck to touch ahunchback; to touch me is the reverse. Way up North in a frozen sea apoor fellow went overboard. I didn't get him and he drowned; but I gotcaught between two cakes of floating ice that jammed my nose out of itsformer perfect contour. In Yucatan I tumbled into a hedge of poisonedcactus and had to operate on myself--quickly, too--to save my life.Wild with pain, I slashed my face to get the poisoned tips of thorn outof the flesh. Parts of my body are like my face, but fortunately I cancover them. It was bad surgery. On another I could have operated withoutleaving a scar, but I was frantic with pain. Don't stare at that bigeye, sir; it's glass. I lost that optic in Pernambuco and couldn't finda glass substitute to fit my face. Indeed, this was the only one intown, made for a fat Spanish lady who turned it down because it was notexactly the right color."

  "You certainly have been--eh--unfort
unate," murmured Uncle John.

  "See here," said Gys, taking a leather book from an inside pocket of thecoat that hung on a peg beside him, and proceeding to open it. "Here isa photograph of me, taken before I embarked upon my adventures."

  Uncle John put on his glasses and examined the photograph curiously. Itwas a fine face, clean-cut, manly and expressive. The eyes wereespecially frank and winning.

  "How old were you then?" he asked.

  "Twenty-four."

  "And now?"

  "Thirty-eight. A good deal happened in that fourteen years, as you mayguess. And now," reaching for the photograph and putting it carefullyback in the book, "state your proposition and I'll listen to it, becauseyou have listened so patiently to me."

  Mr. Merrick in simple words explained the plan to take a hospital shipto Europe, relating the incidents that led up to the enterprise andurging the need of prompt action. His voice dwelt tenderly on his girlsand the loyal support of young Jones.

  Dr. Gys smoked and listened silently. Then he picked up the telephoneand called a number.

  "Tell Hawkins I've abandoned that fishing trip," he said. "I've gotanother job." Then he faced Mr. Merrick. His smile was not pretty, butit was a smile.

  "That's my answer, sir."

  "But we haven't talked salary yet."

  "Bother the salary. I'm not mercenary."

  "And I'm not sure--"

  "Yes, you are. I'm going with you. Do you know why?"

  "It's a novel project, very appealing from a humanitarian standpointand--"

  "I hadn't thought of that. I'm going because you're headed for thebiggest war the world has ever known; because I foresee danger ahead,for all of us; but mainly because--"

  "Well?"

  "Because I'm a coward--a natural born coward--and I can have a lot offun forcing myself to face the shell and shrapnel. That's the truth; I'mnot a liar. And for a long time I've been wondering--wondering--" Hisvoice died away in a murmur.

  "Well, sir?"

  Dr. Gys roused himself.

  "Oh; do you want a full confession? For a long time, then, I've beenwondering what's the easiest way for a man to die. No, I'm not morbid.I'm simply ruined, physically, for the practice of a profession I love,a profession I have fully mastered, and--I'll be happier when I canshake off this horrible envelope of disfigurement."