"For a sixpence I'd wager you had fallen in love yourself." Doctor Dempsy chuckled again. "I never before knew you to be so keen over feminine charms."
"Just more copy," and Peter went on with the tale. "Well, the young chap's horror and fear kept growing with each new case, and the other chap kept sneering and suggesting that his nerves weren't fit, and his hand wasn't steady, and he worked too slowly. He kept it up until he got what he wanted; the young chap bungled his operation and lost his case."
"Poor devil! I know just what kind of torment he lived through." Doctor Dempsy raised himself on an elbow and shook his head at Peter. "A case like that may be fiction to you, but it's fact to us in the profession. You have no idea how often a youngster's nerves fail him."
"Guess I'm getting the idea. But I need your help to finish the yarn. Of course the hospital couldn't bounce him for losing one case. They would have to prove first that he wasn't fit, wouldn't they?"
"They would have to make him out incompetent."
Peter nodded. Had there been more light in the room Doctor Dempsy might have been startled at the unprecedented expression of cunning that had crept into his friend's face. "I'm not up enough in medical matters to know what I could prove against the young chap to put him out. You'll have to help me. Just how could his rival oust him?"
"Accuse him of drugs," came the unhesitating answer. "That's the most plausible, and it's what plays havoc with young surgeons quicker than anything else. They feel their nerves going, and they take a hypodermic; it steadies them until--it gets them. If you can make your villain convince the staff that drugs are back of the lost case, you can get your poor devil of a surgeon permanently disposed of."
Peter let out a long-drawn breath. "Thank you, Doc. You've helped me out--considerably."
It does not in the least matter how Peter finished the tale. Before the inevitable conclusion Doctor Dempsy dropped off to sleep, and no one but Peter himself heard the final, "And they married and lived happy ever after. By Jupiter they did!"
He slipped softly out of the room and stood a moment in the corridor, wondering what he would do next. Sleep seemed unnecessary just then, as well as undesirable. And as he stood there, innocent of all intention of eavesdropping, he had that rare experience of hearing history repeat itself. From around the bend of the corridor, out of sight, came the low but distinct whisper of the night nurse's voice at the house 'phone.