It was evident to the trained eye of the Doctor that the man was fatally ill and could live but a short time.  He was a hopeless consumptive, and a hasty examination revealed the fact that he was also suffering from a severe attack of pneumonia.

Doctor Grenfell’s big sympathetic heart went out to the poor sufferer and his destitute family.  What could he do?  How could he help the man in such a place?  He might remove him to one of the clean, white hospital cots on the Albert, but it would scarcely serve to make easier the impending death, and the exposure and effort of the transfer might even hasten it.  Then, too, the wife and children would be denied the satisfaction of the last moments with the departing soul of the husband and father, for the Albert was to sail at once.  The summer was short, and up and down the coast many others were in sore need of the Doctor’s care, and delay might cost some of them their lives.

Grenfell sat silently for several minutes observing his patient and asking himself the question:  “What can I do for this poor man?” If there had only been a doctor that the man could have called a few days earlier his life, at least might have been prolonged.

There was but one answer to the question.  There was nothing to do but leave medicine and give advice and directions for the man’s care, and to supply the ill-nourished family much-needed food and perhaps some warmer clothing.

If there were only a hospital on the coast where such cases could be taken and properly treated!  If there were only some place where fatherless and orphaned children could be cared for!  These were some of the thoughts that crowded upon Doctor Grenfell as he left the hut that evening and was rowed back to the Albert.  And in the weeks that followed his mind was filled with plans, for never did the picture of the dying man and helpless little ones fade as he saw it that first day in Domino Run.

Another call to go ashore came that evening, and the Doctor answered it promptly.  Again he was guided to a little mud hut, but this had an advantage over the other in that it was well ventilated.  The one window which it boasted was an open hole in the side wall with no glass or other covering to exclude the fresh air.  There was no stove, and an open fire on the earthen floor supplied warmth, while a large opening in the roof, for there was no chimney, offered an escape for the smoke, an offer of which the smoke did not freely take advantage.

On a wooden bench in a corner of the room a man sat doubled up with pain.  Here too was a family consisting of the man’s wife and several children.

“What’s the trouble?” asked the Doctor.

“I’m wonderful bad with a distemper in my insides, sir,” answered the man with a groan.

“Been ill long?”

“Aye, sir, for three weeks.”

“We’ll see what can be done.”

“Thank you, sir.”