The little express office looked good to Bart as its precincts again
sheltered him.

Things appeared better and clearer to him now than at any time during
the past twenty-four hours, and his heart warmed up as he put his papers
and books in order, saw that the safe was secured, and decided to close
up business for the day.

Doctor Griscom from the hospital had dropped in for a few moments, and
brought some news that lifted something of a cloud from the heart of the
young express agent.

"I do not want to hold out any false hopes," he told Bart, "but there is
a bare possibility that your father may not become totally blind."

"That is blessed news!" cried Bart fervently.

"It is all a question of time, and after that of skill," continued the
surgeon. "Your father must have absolute rest and cheerful, comfortable
surroundings; above all, peace of mind. I shall watch his case, and when
I see the first indication of the services of some skilled specialist
being of benefit to him I will tell you. It will cost you some money,
but I will do all I can to make the expert reasonable in his charges."

"Don't think of that," said Bart impetuously. "With such a hope in view
I am willing to work my finger ends off!"

Bart was, therefore, in high spirits as he left the express office,
padlocking the door securely.