It was several days afterward, however, before David was able to go out.
The reaction from the excitement of his home-coming left him contented
with the quiet of the cool living-room, where he wrote to Avery, and
eventually called up Bascomb Senior, with whom he had a brief talk
regarding the progress of the N. M. & Q. He acknowledged Bascomb's note
in regard to the asbestos samples, stating that he would call for them,
which was thoroughly agreeable to the engineer, who wanted to see him.
That afternoon, about four o'clock, Dr. Leighton called. Miss Ross was
out, for which both he and David were thankful, as it gave them an
opportunity "to get down to bed-rock," as David expressed it.
The doctor smiled at David's assertion that he had completely recovered
and wanted to do something beside rest.
"I'm tired of resting," said David.
"Yes, I know. You're all right now and you'll be all right later on if
you take care of yourself. Keep out of the sun and loaf; just loaf and
invite your--friends. I know it's the hardest kind of work for you. It
isn't the wound--the outside of your head that needs humoring. You've
had a shock that has upset things and you can thank your stars that
you're not up there--permanently."
Dr. Leighton chuckled and ran his handkerchief round his perspiring
face.
"I didn't think it was quite so serious," replied David.
"It isn't now, and won't be, if you give yourself half a chance. Do you
know what spinal meningitis is?"
"I have an idea."
"Well, just satisfy yourself with the idea. Don't offer yourself as a
subject for clinical investigation, that's all."
David was silent for a few minutes.
"I want to thank you for your personal attention to my case, Doctor--"
"Don't mention it. I don't know just what your plans are, but I
understand that you have some interest in connection with the N. M. & Q.
that's worrying you. You talked about it in the hospital--when you
weren't exactly yourself, you know. You had a favorite theme, something
about Bascomb, Smoke, and asbestos that you kept up pretty
continuously."
"I don't doubt it," said David, smiling. "You don't know how I felt when
I realized that I was losing my grip on things. 'Smoke' is a dog; Wallie
Bascomb's bull-terrier. I think I chased that dog a thousand miles the
first few days I was in the hospital."
"Don't doubt it. Well, I must go." The Doctor slid a plump hand down his
watch-chain and glanced at his watch. "Well, Ross, you know what to do.
I can't do any more for you than I have. You must work out, or rather
rest out, your own salvation now, and it ought to be rather an agreeable
task. I haven't had a rest for three years. Now, about this N. M. & Q.
business. From the reports recently circulated among the stockholders,
this lumber road won't be in operation for a year or two yet, if that is
any satisfaction."
"It isn't the road entirely," said David. "There are some matters in
connection with the proposed right-of-way--"
"Yes," interrupted the Doctor, "I heard that matter discussed at the
last meeting. I happen to have a little money invested in that project
myself. Bascomb talked me into it. In fact, there are a number of
physicians interested."
"Is that so? Well, that's interesting. I'd like to meet you when you
have more time, and talk it over."
"See here, young man, you're talking business, and that's what I advised
you not to do."
"Yes, but with my physician in attendance--that makes some difference.
Won't you extend your charity and spare me a few minutes more. Can't you
'phone to the hospital? I have something that will interest you, now
that I know you have stock in the N. M. & Q."
"Well, Ross, as a physician I ought to say no, but as your friend, well,
I'll listen, say ten minutes."
"Good!" exclaimed David, taking a piece of paper from the desk. "Now I'm
going to swear you to secrecy."
"I'm sworn," said the Doctor. "Go ahead."
David made a hasty sketch of the Lost Farm tract and the first survey.
"Now here we are," he said. "First survey crosses the river here; second
survey about five miles below. Up here," he continued, "is Timberland
Mountain, and here is the creek crossing the line of the first survey."
He paused and glanced at the Doctor's face. "In that creekbed is a
fortune in asbestos--miles of it. Now the original intention of the
directors was to run the road round the base of the mountain and cross
the creek here. You can see that the second survey would take the road
through five miles below the mountain."
"Yes, I see," said the Doctor; "but why do they want to go away off
there?"
"Well, Bascomb knows that the mineral is on Lost Farm. He has tried to
purchase the land, but it is not for sale. It belongs to my partner, a
Mr. Avery."
"Right of eminent domain?" queried the Doctor.
"Of course, so far as the right-of-way is concerned, but that doesn't
touch the asbestos. What I'm getting at is this. Bascomb apparently
controls the directors. He's an engineer and they leave the fine points
to him. Now he can easily swing the road to the second survey
and--_bang!_ There goes the market for the asbestos. It won't pay to
cart it five miles to the road."
"Does the second survey cover accessible territory for road building?"
asked the Doctor.
"No," replied David. "It's one of the worst pieces of swamp-land I ever
saw."
"I see. So Bascomb is using that to bluff you into selling?"
"That's about it."
"And the stockholders pay for his little idiosyncrasies, hey?"
"They will if he has his way."
The Doctor studied the sketch closely for a moment. "You've got this
thing correct?" he asked finally.
"Not to a scale--but approximately correct," replied David.
"Hu-m-m!" The Doctor leaned back and looked at his companion, but there
was no gleam of recognition in his expression. Presently he arose. "Will
you let me have this sketch for a few days?"
"Certainly," replied David.
"Of course, I'm not a practical railroad man," said the Doctor, as he
folded the paper and slipped it in his memorandum book, "but I don't see
why the N. M. & Q. shouldn't have the asbestos tonnage. Do you?"
"No, I don't;--that is, if the directors are made alive to the fact that
the stockholders know what they want and intend to have it."
"That's it. I won't promise anything, but you might drop a line to your
partner and tell him to sit tight till he hears from you. Now you've had
enough business for a month. Take a drive this evening and keep away
from downtown till you hear from me. I'm going to produce this paper at
the next meeting and get my name in print as a practical railroad man,
which isn't so, but I'm not averse to a little advertising."
"I didn't know men of your--your profession did that kind of
advertising," said David.
"My son, if you knew some of the stunts physicians do to keep themselves
before the public, you'd--well, you might smile and then again, you
might not."
Dr. Leighton drew on his gloves, settled his coat-collar with a shrug of
his corpulent shoulders, and departed.