he commented, "that a doctor has to leave a prescription as other men
leave cards--just as a polite reminder of the call."

"What shall I do with them?"

"Dump 'em all out--I don't care. Or, wait a minute; there's no rush."

He went back to Allison. "I see you've got quite a drug store here. Are
you particularly attached to any special concoction?"

"Indeed I'm not. Most of 'em have hurt--sinfully."

"I don't know that anything has to be painful or disagreeable in order
to be healing," remarked the young man, thoughtfully. "Would you like to
throw 'em all out of the window?"

"I certainly would."

"All right--that'll be good business." He swung Allison's bed around so
that his right arm rested easily on the window sill, requested the nurse
to wheel the drug store within easy reach, and rapidly uncorked bottle
after bottle with his own hands.

"Now then, get busy."

He sat by, smiling, while Allison poured the varying contents of the
drug store on the ground below and listened for the sound of breaking
glass when the bottle swiftly followed the last gurgling drop. When all
had been disposed of, the nurse took out the table, and the young man
smiled expansively at Allison.