A RACE FOR A LIFE
Jerry and his chums looked blankly at one another. They had had very
little experience in illness and accidents, though, often enough, they
had been in tight places, and had been hurt. But they were unacquainted
with the necessity for delicate surgical operations, and ignorant of
their requirements. In a general way they thought that a doctor was all
that was needed, and that one doctor was about as good as, or equal to,
another. Now they could scarcely understand why Dr. Brown himself could
not do what was necessary.
“You say he needs an operation?” questioned Jerry.
“Yes, a delicate one, if his life is to be saved, and it must be
performed quickly.”
“Then why can’t you do it?” asked impulsive Bob.
“Because I have not the necessary skill. I can perform some operations,
it is true, and I have done so. In fact, if we were outside of the
pale of civilization, I would attempt this one. But when other
and more experienced surgeons can be obtained, I would be guilty
of unprofessional conduct did I not advise you to seek some other
practitioner. I will do what I can, of course, until he comes, but the
operating surgeon must be someone else.” The doctor spoke decidedly.
Clearly he was carefully considering the matter.
“What sort of an operation is it?” asked Jerry.
“It is on the head--there is some sort of a fracture--a bone is
pressing on the brain,” was the answer. “Delicate instruments which I
have not, and a skillful assistant and nurse, are needed to perform the
operation; especially up here in the wilderness where there are none of
the conveniences of a hospital.”
“Then we’ll have to go for another doctor,” spoke Ned.
“In my opinion, yes. And only one surgeon in this country is capable of
successfully performing that operation.”
“Who is he?” asked Ned, as the country physician paused.
“He is Dr. Wallace Wright of New York, and it is doubtful if he could
be induced to come away up here, even if he could be brought here in
time. He is a celebrated surgeon--a high-priced one--and in great
demand. I doubt if you could get him.”
At the mention of Dr. Wright’s name the boys looked at one another.
Unconsciously Bob put his hand to his head, which the great surgeon had
sewed up. Something in the faces of the boys made Dr. Brown ask:
“Have you heard of Dr. Wright?”
“He recently treated me,” added Bob.
“Indeed. Then you must have made a remarkable recovery,” Dr. Brown
said. “For Dr. Wright seldom operates unless the case is a serious one,
and you do not look as though you had recently been under his hands.”
“It was only a small scalp wound,” Bob explained.
“We couldn’t get any other doctor,” added Ned.
“What! Couldn’t get any other doctor in New York?” cried the country
practitioner. “You surprise me!”
“Oh, but it wasn’t in New York. It was not far from here, at a place
called Brookville,” went on Jerry. “Dr. Wright, if he is the same one
you mean, is stopping there on his vacation.”
“You can’t be mistaken in the man,” said Dr. Brown, and he quickly
described him, for he had heard him lecture in college several times.
“That is he!” exclaimed Jerry. “He isn’t so far away as you thought,
Dr. Brown.”
“No, but there is still the almost impossible task of getting him to
come up here; to this lonely place, to perform an operation.”
“I think I can get him to come,” said Jerry, slowly. “I will explain
matters to him, and tell him how necessary it is that the professor be
saved--not only for the aid he may give my mother in her affairs, but
for the sake of the world of science.”
“It is barely possible that the appeal to science may move him,”
conceded Dr. Brown. “How are you going to get to Brookville? That is
some distance away.”
“We can go part way in the motor boat, and the rest of the way in our
auto,” Ned explained. “We left our car at Waydell. We can pick it up
there.”
“That’s good!” exclaimed the physician. “Now, then, you had better
make your preparations at once. It will take you nearly three days to
go down there, get Dr. Wright and get back here. If we were near a
railroad it would be easier; but we are not. There is every need for
haste! I’ll write that note at once.”
“And we’ll get ready to go,” said Jerry. “Bob, you and I will make the
trip by auto and boat. Ned and Andy will stay here with the professor.”
“And I’ll stay, too!” exclaimed Dr. Brown. “He should not be left
without medical attendance. You may tell Dr. Wright that I am with the
patient.”
Ned and Andy looked relieved at hearing this.
Little beyond some food, and some extra clothing, was taken by Jerry
and Bob. The motor boat was well stocked, and there was plenty of oil
and gasoline for the trip to Waydell. Another supply could be put
aboard there while the remainder of the trip was being made in the auto.
“You can stop at the hermit’s, and send word to have my horse taken to
my home,” said Dr. Brown, as he handed Jerry the note for Dr. Wright.
“I will stay here until you return. Now go, and good luck go with you.”
It was nearly five o’clock in the afternoon when Jerry and Bob started
off in the boat. They had taken a last look at Professor Snodgrass. The
scientist had roused a little, and had seemed to recognize Jerry, for
he had murmured, looking full at the tall lad:
“Don’t mind--it’s all right--I have the papers--the yellow mud--I’ll
explain--the scoundrels--the two-tailed----” and then he lapsed into
unconsciousness again.
“Come on, Bob!” exclaimed Jerry, grimly. “This is a race to save a
life!”