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Tarpion to be gone another week, and is the cook right when she says Davy must eat? "Hear!" "The winning candidate," says the majority press, "is making a prodigious effort. It is confidentially explained that he was wounded by the charges of desertion or lukewarmness, which were circulated during the week of the primaries." Dr. Floddin is therefore to take care of Davy. Dr.
A year back, when his tonsils swelled, Dr. Tarpion said they must be cut out. The house-keeper said it was the worst possible thing to do. The cook said it should never be done. The peddling huckster's son said Dr. Floddin didn't believe in it. Then Davy would wake in the night. "I tan't breathe," he would complain. "Yes, you can, Davy. Papa's here. Lie down, Davy. Here's a drink."
Floddin, therefore, does not exist. "Well, David, let us speak of it no more. You were entrapped. How about this Congress? I tell you that you must go. You must do exactly as our leader directs." Lockwin is elected, and he is not. He received the most votes, but great frauds were openly perpetrated. Without the false votes Corkey would have been elected.
And just at this epoch of new hygiene Davy's eyes grew sore. "Take him to a specialist," said Dr. Tarpion. The specialist made the eyes a little worse. "Them's just such eyes as Dr. Floddin cured on my sister," said the peddling huckster's son at the kitchen door. The housekeeper could say as much for a relative whom the cheap druggist had served.
If it be diphtheria Lockwin will use whisky plentifully. It is his hobby that whisky is the only antidote. Dr. Floddin has taken charge. He believes that whisky would increase Davy's fever. "It is not diphtheria," he says. "Be assured on that point. It is probably asthma." Whatever it may be, it is terrible to David Lockwin, and to Esther, and to all.
What has happened?" "Listen!" she commands, and reads by the portico light: Thursday Afternoon, Nov. 30. ESTHER, MY WIFE AND WIDOW: It is absolutely necessary that you should come at once to the drug store formerly kept by Dr. Floddin, at 803 State street. Bring an escort. This step must be taken in your own interest certainly not in the interest of your husband.
The peddling huckster's son is not surprised. He knew Dr. Floddin would cure Davy. The cook buys heavily. They'll eat now. "Mind what I'll fix for that darlint to-day!" she threatens. The housekeeper has taken Esther's place at Davy's couch. "You have undoubtedly saved the life of your boy by making him take the emetic. He will love you just as much. I know Mrs.
"Can you cure my boy?" was Lockwin's question to Dr. Floddin. "I think so," said the good man. He was gratified to be called to the relief of a person of so much consequence. Thereupon began a patient treatment of Davy's tonsils, his nose, and his eyes. As if Dr. Floddin knew all things, he foretold the day when the boy would reappear in his own countenance.
He discovers an admirable method of coming in correspondence with the Prairie avenue mansion. Dr. Floddin has recently died, and a new proprietor is in possession of the drug store. It is a matter of a week's time to install David Lockwin. It could have been done in a minute, but a week's time seemed more in order and pleased the seller. You look in and you see a square stove.
Bravely he meets the cry of "Money and machine." One would think he needed no better text. But his secret text is Davy. Davy, whose life has been intrusted to Dr. Floddin, the friend of the poor, the healer who healed the eyes of the peddling huckster's son's sister, the eyes of the housekeeper's relatives, and the eyes of Davy himself.
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