Worcester Democrat and the ledger-enterprise. (Pocomoke City, Md.) 1921-1953, 1942-08-07

with his dirty money.
It was shortly after that that old
Dave Mortimer died. Chris, going
home after his morning calls, found
a letter from Letitia, written in her
Grabbed old hand.
Doctor" she wrote, sis not so well
this year. He is over eighty now, and
as he often talks about you, know
he would like to see you. He has
made no calls for year or so, but
people still come to the office, and
they tire him, Chris. It's time he
took a rest"
Over eighty and still working! Chris
had not written since his reply to
David the summer before, although
somewhere there was a letter from
Hiram Mortimer stating that his
father had bought car and that he
drove it exactly as he had ridden his
horses, into and over bitches and
across fields. And Chris had a vision
of that indomitable old figure going
hell-for- leather by the straightest
route he knew to trouble, any trouble,
all trouble.
He took a train that same night,
having arranged with Jenkins for his
city work and with young Lawrence
"a new man down the street-for
emergencies; and the next morning
he was getting off at the small coun-
try station and shaking hands with
Hiram Mortimer.
Hiram was taciturn as usual. The
car bumped along the dirt road and
into the village.
Remember the night we found your
father in the ditch, Hi?"
(Which one was that? He's been
in bitches all his life. Amt more
than a year since we pulled him out
of one with this car on top of him."
"Great Scott, was he hurt?"
'Not so he couldn't swear" said Hi
with modest pride.
The house was at the end of the
main street, with the big farm be-
hind and beyond it. Chris was
startled when he saw old Dave. His
big frame was as huge as ever, but
the flesh had gone from it. Only his
eyes, piercing and direct, were still
young"
"Well, Chris, grown up, haven't
you"
"Time passes, sir. I'm almost
thirty"
"Thirty!" said old Dave. You're
a child, Chris. A babe in arms. A
man doesn't know anything until he's
sixty. He's got women out of his
blood by that time"
He shouted with laughter as Chris
flushed.
"Hit you there, Ell? Sit down. I
suppose Lefty sent for you. Well,
it's no good, Chris. I owe these people
something. Some of them owe me,
tool Always have and always will.
But I'm not quitting until have to.
Now what about yourself?"
They talked a good bit through the
day. Now and then car or buggy
would drive up, and once Chris was
called in to see the results of a Potts
fracture finely set and mended. Chris
was surprised at the width of his
uncle's knowledge. He took and read
the medical and surgical journals, and
he had theories of his own, which
Chris always remembered.
"Look at germs" he said. "Why
aren't we all dead of germs? Be-
cause we set up an immunity to them?
Well, maybe. But maybe the Big
Man has got something else, too.
Maybe He's put something into Ma
ture to kill them. Sunlight? | don't
know Some principle or other, any
how. They'll find it some day. 1
won't live to see it, but you may"
Only before he left did he touch on
'sChris's personal life
"What about women? Trouble
you?"
give been too busy to worry
much"
But he colored, and David laughed.
"Just be careful, boy" he said.
"Most of these city hoity-toitys won't
ever know what you're thinking
about Get wife who'll travel the
whole road with you. And it's no
easy road"
He preached a small sermon then
and there on matrimony, and Chris
told him he had missed his vocation.
Chris never saw David alive again,
but going back on the train that
night, he thought over what he had