ened the folding inner
doors to go and answer the street door bell, frowning the while.

"Wanted for some patient," he muttered sourly. "I do wish people would
have their accidents at decent times."

CHAPTER TWO.

"NEWS! NEWS!"

On the other side of the dining-room door Doctor Morris, a
thoughtful-looking man of goodly presence, and the better looking for a
calm ignorance of his being handsome, was seated opposite to his thin,
yellow-skinned, and rather withered, nervous-looking old college friend,
both partaking slowly of the good things the doctor's domestic had
prepared for them, as if it came perfectly natural to them to follow out
the proverbial words of the old Greek philosopher who bade his pupils,
"Live not to eat, but eat to live."

As Sam had truthfully said, they had been talking very learnedly about
their investigations in the particular branches of science which they
had followed up since their old school and college days when they had
begun their friendship, in company with another companion, missing now;
and the doctor had said, with a far-off look in his large dark eyes--

"No, Fred, old chap, I don't want to settle down here yet, because I
know how it will be. Once I regularly begin, the practice will
completely swallow me, as it did the dear old dad. People came from far
and wide to be treated by him, and he had hardly an hour to call his
own. Of course I shall be glad to do the same, for it's a duty to one's
fellow-creatures; but I want to leave it all to old Stanley for another
two or three years while I travel and see more of the world. I should
like to go with some army if I could."

"Yes," said his guest, "I see; as a volunteer surgeon."

"Exactly; the experience and confidence I should gain would be so great.
After that, here is my place, and I could relieve Stanley till he
retires, which he says he shall do as soon as I like to take the old
practice fully in hand."

"Hah! Yes, Bob," said the visitor. "There's nothing like travel--
seeing foreign countries, with some special pursuit to follow. I'm like
a fish out of water now, with all this trouble in Egypt. Oh, hang the
Khalifa, or Mahdi, or whatever they call him!"

"That's what a good many people would like to do," said the doctor
drily.

"Like to? I should like to do it myself," cried Landon, with his yellow
face flushing. "The wretch, the impostor, the cruel, heartless brute!
Poor Harry Frere! as handsome, manly