"Well, I'd like to do something for you in return for what you did for
my son."

"Would you? Pay me in words, then, if you will and dare. What is your
Vitalizing Mixture?"

"That's my secret."

"Liquor? Eh?"

"Some."

"Morphine?"

"A little."

"And the rest syrup and coloring matter, I suppose. A fine vitalizer!"

"It gets the money," retorted the other.

"And your soothing, balmy oils for cancer? Arsenious acid, I suppose, to
eat it out?"

"What if it is? As well that as anything else--for cancer."

"Humph! I happened to see a patient you'd treated, two years ago, by
that mild method. It wasn't cancer at all; only a benign tumor. Your
soothing oils burned her breast off, like so much fire. She's dead now."

"Oh, we all make mistakes."