de Gex!" he said cordially. "What can I do for
you?"

It was characteristic of Campion to put his question in that form.
Ninety-nine men out of a hundred would have asked what was the matter
with me. But Campion, who all his life had given, wanted to know what he
could co.

"Tell me fairy tales of Lambeth and idylls of the Waterloo Bridge Road.
Or light your pipe and talk to me of Barbara."

He folded up the tablecloth and put it in the sideboard drawer.

"If it's elegant distraction you want," said he, "I can do better
than that." He planted himself in front of me. "Would you like to do a
night's real work?"

"Certainly," said I.

"A gentleman of my acquaintance named Judd is in the ramping stage of
_delirium tremens_. He requires a couple of men to hold him down so as
to prevent him from getting out of bed and smashing his furniture and
his wife and things. I was going to relieve one of the fellows there
now, so that he can get a few hours' sleep, and if you like to come
and relieve the other, you'll be doing a good action. But I warn you it
won't be funny."

"I'm in the mood for anything," I said.

"You'll come?"

"Of course."

"That's splendid!" he shouted. "I hardly thought you were in earnest.
Wait till I telephone for some medicine to be sent up from the
dispensary. I promised to take it round with me."

He telephoned instructions, and presently a porter brought in the
medicine. Campion explained that it had been prescribed by the doctor
attached to the institution who was attending the case.

"You must come and see the working of our surgery and dispensary!" he
cried enthusiastically. "We charge those who can afford a sixpence for
visit and medicine. Those who can't are provided, after inquiry, with
coupons. We don't want to encourage the well-to-do to get their medical
advice gratis, or we wouldn't be able to cope with the really poor. We
pay the doctor a fixed salary, and the fees go to the general fund of
the Building, so it doesn't matter a hang to him whether a patient pays
or not."

"You must be proud of all this, Campion?" I said.

"In a way," he replied, lighting his pipe; "but it's mainly a question
of money--my poor old father's money which he worked for, not I."

I reminded him that other sons had been known to put their poor old
father's money to baser uses.

"I suppose Barbara is more useful to the community that steam yachts or
racing stables; but there, you see, I hate yacht