ext time."

"Much obliged." Burns had a bull-dog expression now. Not the most
discerning observer would have imagined he felt a twinge of regret over
his failure.

"Would you mind telling me what made you so confident that the
spleen had nothing to do with the complication?" Fields inquired in a
deprecatory manner which made Burns long to twist his neck.

"Did you suggest that it did--beforehand?"

"I believe I did--if I remember."

"I believe you didn't--nor any other man till I got in and found it.
You all observed it then--and so did I. Excuse me--I'm in too much of a
hurry to stop to discuss the case now. I'm due upstairs." And once more
Burns made good his escape.

"Sore," was Field's verdict, looking after the man who had been his
successful rival for so long that this exception could hardly fail
to afford a decided, if rather shame-faced satisfaction to a brother
surgeon not above that quite human' sentiment.

But in the course of the day Burns met Buller. He had dreaded to meet
him, but not for the same reason that he had dreaded the others. Meeting
Buller was quite another story.

"Old boy, I'm so sorry I could cry, if it would do you any good," said
Buller, his steady, honest gaze meeting his friend's miserable eyes.
For the defiance had melted out of Burns's aspect and left it frankly
wretched before the hearty friendship in this man's whole attitude;
friendship which could be counted upon, like that of his office nurse's,
to the end of all things.

Burns swallowed hard, making no reply, because he could not. But his
hand returned the steady pressure of Butler's in a way that showed he
was grateful.

"I knew you'd take it hard--much harder than common. And, of course, I
understand why. Any man would. But I wish I could make you feel the
way I do about it. There's not one particle of reason for you to blame
yourself. I've thought the case over and over from start to finish, and
I'm more and more convinced that she wouldn't have lived without the
operation. You gave her her only chance. Take that in? I mean it. I went
around there this morning and told the family so--I took that liberty.
It was a comfort to them, though they believed anyway. They haven't lost
a particle of faith in you."

Burns bit his lip till he had it under control, and could get out a word
or two of gratitude.

"And now I want a favour of you," the other went on hurriedly. "A case I
want you to see with me--possible operatio