He came back and went on with his dinner. Mary admitted to herself a little curiosity as to what was to be put into hot water. In a few minutes the dinner was finished and the doctor was gone. "I bet I know what that was," spoke up the small boy. "What?" asked his sister. "Diphtheria clothes. There's a family in town that's got the diphtheria." Mary was relieved--not that there should be diphtheria in town, but that the answer for which her mind was vaguely groping had probably been found. * * * * * Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. When the doctor had answered the summons he told Mary he would have to go down to a little house at the edge of town about a mile away. When he came back an hour later he sat down before the fire with his wife. "I remember a night nineteen years ago when I was called to that house--a little boy was born. I used to see the little fellow occasionally as he grew up and pity him because he had no show at all. Tonight I saw him, a great strapping fellow with a good position and no bad habits. He'll make it all right now." The doctor paused for a moment, then went on. "They didn't pay me then. I remember that. I mentioned it tonight in the young fellow's presence." "John, you surely didn't!" "Yes, I did. His mother said she guessed Jake could pay the bill himself." Mary looked at this husband of hers with a quizzical smile. "Doesn't it strike you that you are going pretty far back for your bill?" "There's no good reason why this boy should not pay the bill if he wants to." "No, I suppose not. But I don't believe he was so keen to get into the world as all that." "Well, it wouldn't surprise me much if that young fellow should come into my office one of these days and offer to settle that old score now that he knows about it." "Don't you take it if he does!" and Mary left the room quite unconscious that her pronoun was without an antecedent. * * * * * Ting-a-ling-ling-ling-ling-ling. "Is this you, Doctor?" "It is." "I expect you will have to come out to our house." "Who is it?" "This is Mary Milton." "What's the matter out there, Mrs. Milton?" "Polly's gone and hurt her shoulder. I guess she run it into the ground." "Was she thrown from a horse or a vehicle?" "No." "Then how could she run it into the ground?" "Polly Milton can run _everything_ into the ground!" and the tone was exasperation itself. "I come purty near havin' to send for you yesterday, but I managed to get 'er out." "Out of _what_?" "The clothes-wringer. She caught her stomach fast between the rollers and nearly took a piece out of it. Nobody wanted her to turn it but she would do it." "Well, what has she done _today_?" asked the doctor, getting impatient. "I'm plum ashamed to tell ye. She was a-playin' leap-frog." "Good! I'd like to play it myself once more."