I got up and opened the door, but the Snow came in in a cloud, and the
path was half a foot deep again. It shows on what little threads big
things hang, for when I saw the storm I gave up the idea of bringing Mr.
Sam down to see the young man, and the breath of fresh air in my face
brought me to my senses.

But the angel of providence appeared in the shape of Mike, the bath man,
coming down through the snow in a tearing rage. The instant I saw Mike I
knew it was settled.

"Am I or am I not to give Mr. Moody a needle shower?" he shouted, almost
beside himself. And I saw he had his overcoat over his bath costume,
which is a Turkish towel.

"A needle shower followed by a salt rub," said I. "He's been having them
for eleven years. What's the matter?"

"That fool of a young doctor," shouted Mike, "he told him before he left
that if he'd been taking them for eleven years and wasn't any better
it was time to stop. Ain't business bad enough--only four people in the
house takin' baths regular--without his buttin' in!"

"Where's Mr. Moody?"

"In the bath. I've locked up his clothes."

"You give him a needle shower and a salt rub," I ordered, "and if he
makes a fuss just send for me. And, Mike," I said, as he started out,
"ask Mr. Van Alstyne to come out here immediately."