CHAPTER II

A TIMELY SUGGESTION

Doctor Kane, the kindly physician from Oakvale, was just coming down the path from the Kenyon farmhouse as Ralph rode into the yard.  He paused beside his car, seeing the lad dismount hastily and come forward with an anxious appeal in his brown eyes.

“How—–­how is she to-day?” Ralph asked, when he had grasped the
doctor’s outstretched hand.   “Her eyes---are they------”

“No better, and no worse,” replied his friend; and again the doctor explained the situation in simple terms that Ralph could understand.

“What will the operation cost?” Ralph asked desperately.

Doctor Kane pondered for a moment.

“Well, if she will consent to go before a clinic, I think I can get her off with a hundred and twenty-five dollars, including hospital fees,” he replied.  “I’ll be glad to go with her to the city, Ralph, and pay the car fares.”

Ralph knew he meant by “car fares” traveling expenses, for he was familiar with Doctor Kane’s habit of belittling his many charitable acts.  He knew also that, if necessary, the doctor would gladly lend him the sum of money which stood, a tangible barrier, between his mother and total darkness; but with a sense of indomitable hope and modest pride, he had resolved not to ask for that favor, which, he realized, would be no small one, except as a last resort.

“You’re awfully kind, sir,” he responded warmly.   “I appreciate-----”

“Nonsense!” ejaculated Doctor Kane.  “It will be a pleasure for me to do anything I can for your mother and you, my boy.  Your father was one of the best friends I ever had, and some day I’ll tell you how I came to owe him a debt which I shall never be able to repay.  Just call on me if I can help out, won’t you?”

He closed the gate and went forward to crank up his runabout, but Ralph detained him a few moments longer, to tell him about the encounter with Bill Terrill.  When he had finished, the doctor advised him to pay no attention to the vague overtures made by Silas Perkins’ hireling, until the doctor himself had referred the matter of the survey to the coexecutor of Mr. Kenyon’s will.  After that, it would be time to consider a sale, definitely.

“Don’t let anyone bunco you, my boy,” he added, as he climbed into his car and grasped the steering-wheel.  “By the way, Ralph, I saw my friend Professor Whalen in Oakvale, the other day.  He told me he sighted a fine pair of golden eagles up here in the mountains, recently, and would willingly give a hundred and fifty dollars for that pair, if they’re as good as he thinks they are.  He wants them for a gift to his college museum.  There’s a chance for you!”

“So much—–­for a pair of eagles!” exclaimed the boy.  “Did he really mean it?”