"

"Even so, I couldn't leave Clem. My daughter will be cared for, but Clem
wouldn't have anybody. We'll fight it out on this line, Major."

I now saw that continuous questioning about Miss Caroline would bring
one in time to madness, and I was glad of my resolve never again to
indulge in this unprofitable occupation.

But even pneumonia has its defeats. Young Doc surprised Old Doc again;
for the latter, once convinced that an African could suffer so civilized
an affliction as pneumonia, had declined to believe that he could ever
"throw it off," and had disclosed good reasons why he could not to an
attentive group at the City Drug Store.

Yet after a night when Miss Caroline had refused to let me watch, she
met me at the door as Young Doc was leaving. She was wearied but
chipper, though there was an unsteady little lift in her voice as she
said:--

"That lazy black wretch is going to get well!"

"It's about time," I said grimly. "I've been in a bad way without him.
Indeed I'm very glad to hear you say so."

Her eyes twinkled approval upon me, I thought.

"You've behaved excellently, Major. Really, I am glad that we left you
that other arm." This was almost in her old manner, though her eyes
seemed a little dimmed by her excitement. Then, with a sudden return to
the patient:--

"I wonder if you would be good enough to go in and swear at Clem. He's
perfectly rational now, and it will hearten him wonderfully. He's
dreadfully mortified because he's been sick so long. And it needs a man,
you know, really. I'll close the door for you. Do it hard! Call him a
damned black hound, if you please, and ask him what he means by it!"

I hurried in, for Miss Caroline's eyes were threatening to betray her.

CHAPTER XX

IN WHICH SOMETHING MUST BE DONE

Clem's prolonged convalescence was a trial to his militant spirit. The
month or more of curious weakness in his body, always before so stout,
left him with a fear that he had been "pah'lyzed in th' frame."
Moreover, there were troubles less intimately personal to him, but not
less harassing to the household.

There was Little Miss, who was making a fight like Clem's own in a
Baltimore hospital. Each day I bore to Miss Caroline a telegram
detailing the progress of her daughter, though it had cost me time and
trouble to convince my correspondent that he was not to skimp such
encouragement as might be his to offer, merely to comprise it within ten
words. There were t