“Mother,” gasped Roger, horrified.  “What are you taking that medicine for?”

“For my back,” she responded, sleepily.

“I thought your back was well.”

“So ’tis.”

“Then what in thunder do you keep on taking dope for?”

Miss Mattie sat up.  She was very weary and greatly desired her sleep, but it was evident that Roger must be soothed first.

[Sidenote:  Getting her Money’s Worth]

“You don’t seem to understand me,” she sighed, with a yawn.  “After payin’ a dollar and twenty cents for that medicine, do you reckon I’m goin’ to let it go to waste?  I’m goin’ to keep right on takin’ it, every four hours, as he said, until it’s used up.”

“Mother!”

“Don’t you worry none, Roger,” said Miss Mattie, kindly, with a drowsy smile.  “Your mother is bein’ took care of by a wonderful doctor.  He makes the lame walk and the blind see and cures large pains with small pills.  I am goin’ to stick to my medicine.  He didn’t say to stop takin’ it.”

“But, Mother, you mustn’t take it when there is no need for it.  He never meant for you to take it after you were cured.  Besides, you might have the same trouble again when we couldn’t get hold of him.”

“How’m I to have it again?” demanded Miss Mattie, pricking up her ears, “when I’m cured?  If I take all the medicine, I’ll stay cured, won’t I?  You ain’t got no logic, Roger, no more’n your pa had.”

“I wish you wouldn’t, Mother,” pleaded the boy, genuinely distressed.  “It’s the medicine that makes you sleep so.”

“I reckon,” responded Miss Mattie, settling herself comfortably back among the pillows, “that he wanted me to have some sleep.  In all my life I ain’t never had such sleep as I’m havin’ now.  You go away, Roger, and study law.  You ain’t cut out for medicine.”

The last words died away in an incoherent whisper.  Miss Mattie slept again, with the box tightly clutched in her hand.  As her fingers gradually loosened their hold, Roger managed to gain possession of it without waking her.  He did not dare dispose of it, for he well knew that the maternal resentment would make the remainder of his life a burden.  Besides, she might have another attack, when the ministering mind-reader was not accessible.  If it were possible to give her some harmless substitute, and at the same time keep the “searching medicine” for a time of need.

[Sidenote:  A Bright Idea]

A bright idea came to Roger, which he hastened to put into execution.  He went to the druggist and secured a number of empty capsules of the same size.  At home, he laboriously filled them with flour and replaced those in the box with an equal number of them.  He put the “searching medicine” safely away in his desk at the office, and went to work, his heart warmed by the pleasant consciousness that he had done a good deed.

When he went home at night, Miss Mattie was partially awake and inclined to be fretful.  “The strength is gone out of my medicine,” she grumbled, “and it ain’t time to take more.  I’ve got to set here and be deprived of my sleep until eight o’clock.”