ained only to find the path and press it. He
would be a doctor. The question was, how? His first step was to consult
the only authority available, old Doctor Ferguson. It was a stormy
interview, for the doctor was of a craggy sort like Barney himself,
with a jaw and a chin and all they suggested. The boy told his purpose
briefly, almost defiantly, as if expecting scornful opposition, and
asked guidance. The doctor flung difficulties at his head for half an
hour and ended by offering him money, cursing his Highland pride when
the boy refused it.

"What do I want with money?" cried the doctor. He had lost his only
son three years before. "There's only my wife. And she'll have plenty.
Money! Dirt, fit to walk on, to make a path with, that's all! Had my
boy lived, God knows I'd have made him a surgeon. But--" Here the doctor
snorted violently and coughed, trumpeting hard with his nose. "Confound
these foggy nights! I'll put you through."

"I'll pay my way," said Barney almost sullenly, "or I'll stay at home."

"What are you doing here, then?" he roared at the boy.

"I came to find out how to start. Must a man go to college?"

"No," shouted the doctor again; "he can be a confounded fool and work up
by himself, a terrible handicap, going up for the examinations till the
last year, when he must attend college."

"I could do that," said Barney, closing his jaws.

The doctor looked at his face. The shut jaws looked more than ever like
a ledge of granite and the chin like a cliff. "You can, eh? Hanged if I
don't believe you! And I'll help you. I'd like to, if you would let me."
The voice ended in a wistful tone. The boy was touched.

"Oh, you can!" he cried impulsively, "and I'll be awfully thankful. You
can tell me what books to get and sometimes explain, perhaps, if you
have time." His face went suddenly crimson. He was conscious of asking a
favour.

The old doctor sat down, rejoicing greatly in him, and for the first
time treated him as an equal. He explained in detail the course of
study, making much of the difficulties in the way. When he had done he
waved his hand toward his library.

"Now, there are my books," he cried; "use them and ask me what you will.
It will brush me up. And I'll take you to see my cases and, by God's
help, we'll make you a surgeon! A surgeon, sir! You've got the fingers
and the nerves. A surgeon! That's the only thing worth while. The
physician can't see further below the skin than anyone