The coffee and cigar were having their effect, and at the end of an hour, during which the party at the end of the table had been conversing in a low voice, a moan or two from the sufferer finished the tendency towards submission, and Chester busied himself for some time about the couch. Then, rising once more, "Pen and ink," he said shortly, and the heavy-featured young fellow fetched him a blotting-case and inkstand. "A telegraph form, too." "Plenty there, doctor." Chester wrote quickly for a few minutes, and then handed a couple of papers to the young fellow, who had stopped close at hand. "I want this prescription made up at the chemist's, and the telegram sent respecting a substitute to see my patients." "All right, doctor," and the recipient took both to the end of the table, and gave them to the man who seemed to be his brother. The latter took the papers and rose to cross to Chester. "Thank you, doctor," he said quietly. "You will do your best, I see. Please bear in mind that money is no object to us here. Our cousin's life is." He went out of the room directly, returned soon after, and brought with him a quiet, sedate-looking old lady in black silk and white apron. She was very pale, and her eyes looked wild and strange, as she went straight to the couch, leaned over and kissed the patient's forehead, and then set to work and cleared the disordered table, almost without a sound, two of the young men joining her and helping to carry the dessert things out by the farther door. Chester's face must have told tales, for he started round in surprise to find that he had been carefully watched by the leader of the little plot to detain him. "You could not get out that way, doctor," he said quietly. "We are a very united family here, and the housekeeper is devoted to us." Chester frowned with annoyance. "I understand you," he said; "but mind this: every dog has his day, sir, and mine will come, unless revolvers are brought into play and an awkward witness silenced." "My dear doctor, you are romantic," was the sarcastic reply. "Don't be alarmed; we shall not shoot and bury you on the premises, for sanitary reasons. It might affect the nerves of our ladies, too. There, all we want of you is your skill to set that poor fellow right, and then you can return home, better paid than seeing ordinary patients. How does he seem?" An angry retort was at Chester's lips, but he did not utter it. He accepted his position, for the time being, and replied quietly-- "Going on well, but he will be the better for a sedative. Feverish, of course. Have you sent that prescription?" "Yes, it has been taken, and the chemist will be rung up to dispense it. I say, doctor; no fear of a bad ending?" "And no thanks to the man who fired at him from behind," said Chester, looking straight at his questioner as he spoke. "Fortunately the bullet passed diagonally by his ribs, an inch to the right--"