Accordingly it was in a cheerful frame of mind that he set out for home, scattering most of his purchases among the children before he went.
He was in a kindly mood, and when he saw James Roberts coming up High Street, he did not, as he had once or twice lately, cross the road to avoid meeting him, but held on his path, determined to offer a friendly greeting.
When the Doctor came up, he stopped and took from his breast pocket the little green volume which contained Dale's latest poems. He held it up before the author's eyes.
"Ah, Roberts, I see you have the new work. How do you like it?"
He tried to speak easily, but the Doctor did not appear to be in a conciliatory temper.
"Are these things really yours?" he asked.
Dale felt this unjust. The verses might not express the Doctor's views, but an immortal poet's works are not lightly to be called doggerel.
"What a narrow-minded beggar you are!" he exclaimed.
The Doctor answered nothing. Buttoning up his threadbare coat, so as to leave his arms free, with an effort he tore the leaves from their cover, rent them across, flung them on the road, and trod them into the mud. Then, without a word, he passed on his way, while Dale stood and stared at the dishonored wreck.
"He's mad--stark mad!" he declared at last. "How ill the poor chap looks, too!"
The Doctor hurried down the street, with a strange malicious smile on his face. Every now and then his hand sought his breast pocket again, and hugged a check for a hundred pounds which lay there. It was his last money in the world; when that was gone, his banking account was exhausted, and nothing remained but his wife's pittance--and nothing more was coming. Yet he had devoted that sum to a purpose, and now he stopped at Alderman Johnstone's door, and asked for the master of the house, still grimly smiling at the thought of what he was preparing for Dale Bannister, if only Johnstone would help him. Johnstone had a lease now, he was independent--if only he would help him!
"It's a new trade for me," said he, with a grin.
"I find the stock--I have it ready. And----" He held up the check.
"They can't touch me," he said, "and I should like to 'ave a shy at the Squire. 'Ere's my 'and upon it."