For the first time, in response to his arguments on this subject, Burns got no answer but silence. But his friend's face was slowly flushing a deep, angry red. At this sight Burns rejoiced. His theory had been that if he could wake something in Leaver besides deep depression and sad negation he had a chance to influence him. He believed thoroughly that if he could force the distinguished young surgeon through one successful operation confidence would return like an incoming tide. He had hoped that the pathetic sight of the little malformed body of Jamie Ferguson would arouse the passion for salvage which lies in the breast of every man who practises the great profession; he saw that thus far his plan had succeeded. Now to accomplish the rest. "Suppose," said Leaver, turning slowly toward the other man, "I agree to stand beside you and direct the operation?" It was Burns's turn to colour angrily, his quick temper leaping to fire in an instant. "Not _much_! Let every tub stand on its own bottom! Either I do the job or I don't do it; but I don't take the part of an apprentice. I'll agree to play second fiddle to you, with you playing first. But I'll be--condemned--if I'll play first, with a coach at my elbow. Take that and be hanged to you!" He walked over to the open window, threw back the screen and put his head out, as if he needed air to breathe. Leaver was at his side in an instant. "I beg your pardon, my dear fellow, I do sincerely. It was an unworthy suggestion, and I don't blame you for resenting it. Nobody needs help less than you. You could do the operation brilliantly. That's why there's no need in the world to force me into the situation--no need--" Burns wheeled. "There _is_ need! There's need for you--to save your soul alive. You've been no coward so far--your overworked nerves played you a trick and you've had to recover. But you have recovered, you are fit to work again. _If you don't do this thing you'll be a coward forever!_" It bit deep, as he had known it would. If he had struck a knife into his friend's heart he could not have caused so sharp a hurt. Leaver turned white under this surgery of speech, and for an instant he looked as if he would have sprung at Burns's throat. There followed sixty silent seconds while both men stood like statues. But the merciless judgment had turned the scale. With a control of himself which struck Burns, as he recalled it afterward, as marvellous, Leaver answered evenly: "You shall not have the chance to say that again. I will operate when you think best." "Thank God!" said Red Pepper Burns, under his breath.