"That's the last man to come ashore here," said Marny. "What's become
of the lad?"
"Maybe he's gone aft," cried Stebbins; "maybe--"
Here Tine gave a little scream, dropped her wreath and running toward
the small, feeble man, threw her arms around his neck. Marny and the
others bounded over the cobbles, tossing the bystanders out of the way
as they forged ahead. When they reached Joplin he was still clinging to
Tine, his sunken cheeks and hollow deep-set eyes telling only too
plainly how great an effort he was making to keep on his legs. The four
painters formed a close bodyguard and escorted their long-lost brother
to the inn.
Mynheer, in his burgomaster suit, met the party at the door, conducted
them inside and silently drew out the chairs at the coffee-room table.
He was too overcome to speak.
Joplin dropped into the one hung with ivy and rested his hands on the
table.
"Lord! how good it is to get here!" he said, gazing about him, a
tremble in his voice. "You don't know what I've gone through, boys."
"Why, we thought you were getting fat, Joppy," burst out Marny at last.
Up to this time his voice, like that of the others, seemed to have left
him, so great was his surprise and anxiety.
Joplin waved his forefinger toward Marny in a deprecatory way, as if
the memory of his experience was too serious for discussion, played
with his fork a moment, and said slowly:
"Will you lay it up against me, fellows, if I tell you the truth? I'm
not as strong as I was and a good deal of the old fight is out of me."
"Lay up nothin'!" cried Malone. "And when it comes to fightin' ye kin
count on me every--"
"Dry up!" broke in Marny. "You're way off, Malone. No, Joppy, not a man
here will open his head: say the rest."
"Well, then, listen," continued the Bostonian. "I did everything they
told me: got up at daylight; walked around the spring seven times;
sipped the water; ate what they prescribed; lay in wet sheets two hours
every day; was kneaded by a man with a chest as hairy as a satyr's and
arms like a blacksmith's; stood up and was squirted at; had everything
about me looked into--even stuck needles in my arm for a sample of my
blood; and at the end of three weeks was so thin that my trousers had
to be lapped over in the back under a leather strap to keep them above
my hips, and my coat hung down as if it were ashamed of me. Doctor
Stuffen then handed me a certificate and his bill. This done he stood
me up and repeated this formula--has it printed--all languages:
"'You have now thrown from your system every particle of foul tissues,
Mr.--, ah, yes--Mr. Joblin, I believe.' And he looked at the paper.
'You thought you were reasonably fat, Mr. Joblin. You were not fat, you
were merely bloated. Go now to Stuckbad for two weeks. There you will
take the after-cure; keep strictly to the diet, a list of which I now
hand you. At the expiration of that time you will be a strong man.
Thank you--my secretary will send you a receipt.'
"Well, I went to Stuckbad--crawled really--put up at the hotel and sent
for the resident doctor, Professor Ozzenbach, Member of the Board of
Pharmacy of Berlin, Specialist on Nutrition, Fellow of the Royal
Society of Bacteriologists, President of the Vienna Association of
Physiological Research--that kind of man. He looked me all over and
shook his head. He spoke broken English--badly.
"'Who has dreated you, may I ask, Meester Boblin?'
"'Doctor Stuffen, at Fizzenbad.'
"'Ah, yes, a fery goot man, but a leedle de times behindt. Vat did you
eat?'
"I handed him the list.
"'No vonder dot you are thin, my frent--yoost as I oxpected--dis ees de
olt deory of broteids. Dot is all oxbloded now. Eef you haf stay anuder
mont you vould be dead. Everyting dot he has dold you vas yoost de
udder way; no bread, no meelk, no vegebubbles--noddings of dis, not von
leedle bit. I vill make von leest--come to-morrow.'"
"Did you go, Joppy?" inquired Stebbins.
"DID _I_ GO? Yes, back to the depot and on to Cologne. That night I ate
two plates of sauerkraut, a slice of pork and a piece of cheese the
size of my hand; slept like a top."
"So the proteids and carbohydrates didn't do your epigastric any good,
old chap," remarked Pudfut in an effort to relieve the gloom.
"Proteids, carbohydrates and my epigastric be damned," exploded Joplin.
"On your feet, boys, all of you. Here's to the food of our fathers,
with every man a full plate. And here's to dear old Marny, the human
kangaroo. May his appetite never fail and his paunch never shrink!"