rtunities such as were granted to few.

He had been in Mudford for five years now. An occasional paper in _The
Lancet_ on "The Recurrence of Anthro-philomelitis in Earth-worms" kept
him in touch with modern medical thought, but he could not help feeling
that to some extent his powers were rusting in Mudford. As the years
went on his chance of Harley Street dwindled.

"Come in," he said in answer to a knock at the door.

The housekeeper's head appeared.

"There's been an accident, sir," she gasped. "Gentleman run over!"

He snatched up his stethoscope and, without even waiting to inquire
where the accident was, hurried into the night. Something whispered to
him that his chance had come.

After a quarter of an hour he stopped a small boy.

"Hallo, Johnny," he said breathlessly, "where's the accident?"

The boy looked at him with open mouth for some moments. Then he had an
idea.

"Why, it's Doctor!" he said.

Dr. Venables pushed him over and ran on....

It was in the High Street that the accident had happened. Lord Lair, an
eccentric old gentleman who sometimes walked when he might have driven,
had, while dodging a motor-car, been run into by a child's hoop. He lay
now on the pavement surrounded by a large and interested crowd.

"Look out," shouted somebody from the outskirts; "here comes Doctor."

Dr. Venables pushed his way through to his patient. His long search for
the scene of the accident had exhausted him bodily, but his mind was as
clear as ever.

"Stand back there," he said in an authoritative voice. Then, taking out
his stethoscope, he made a rapid examination of his patient.

"Incised wound in the tibia," he murmured to himself. "Slight abrasion
of the patella and contusion of the left ankle. The injuries are serious
but not necessarily mortal. Who is he?"

The butcher, who had been sitting on the head of the fallen man, got up
and disclosed the features of Lord Lair. Dr. Venables staggered back.

"His lordship!" he cried. "He is a patient of Dr. Scott's! I have
attended the client of another practitioner! Professionally I am
ruined!"

Lord Lair, who was now breathing more easily, opened his eyes.

"Take me home," he groaned.

Dr. Venables' situation was a terrible one. Medical etiquette demanded
his immediate retirement from the case, but the promptings of humanity
and the thought of his client's important position in the world were too
strong for him. Throwing his scruples to the winds,