matter, Doctor? Surely your X-ray work hasn't knocked you out
like this?"

The doctor shook hands with me mechanically. His hand was icy.
"The blow has fallen," he exclaimed, as he sank limply into a
chair and tossed an evening paper over to Kennedy.

In red ink on the first page, in the little square headed "Latest
News," Kennedy read the caption, "Society Woman Crippled for Life
by X-Ray Treatment."

"A terrible tragedy was revealed in the suit begun today,"
continued the article, "by Mrs. Huntington Close against Dr.
James Gregory, an X-ray specialist with offices at Madison
Avenue, to recover damages for injuries which Mrs. Close alleges
she received while under his care. Several months ago she began a
course of X-ray treatment to remove a birthmark on her neck. In
her complaint Mrs. Close alleges that Dr. Gregory has carelessly
caused X-ray dermatitis, a skin disease of cancerous nature, and
that she has also been rendered a nervous wreck through the
effects of the rays. Simultaneously with filing the suit she left
home and entered a private hospital. Mrs. Close is one of the
most popular hostesses in the smart set, and her loss will be
keenly felt."

"What am I to do, Kennedy?" asked the doctor imploringly. "You
remember I told you the other day about this case--that there was
something queer about it, that after a few treatments I was
afraid to carry on any more and refused to do so? She really has
dermatitis and nervous prostration, exactly as she alleges in her