“It’s my stomach,” replied the man. “I’ve had trouble with it for years. I always thought it plain dyspepsia, but there’s a complication that only an operation will cure. But it’s too expensive. Not only the operation, but afterward. I’d have to rest for several months. I can’t afford to do that, and yet I can’t afford to lie here. I don’t know what to do. I’ve never saved any money. I’ve just been able to live on my salary and send a little each month to a sister who’s an invalid.” His speech trailed to a despairing whisper.
“I see how it is,” Harry nodded seriously. “If you could somehow get enough money for the operation and afterward, you’d be all right. Perhaps if you’d send for Mr. Edward Martin and tell him this, he might help you.”
“I couldn’t do that.” The aisle manager shook his head stubbornly. “I’ve never asked anyone for help yet and I’d rather die than do it now.” A dull flush of humiliation rose to the pale cheeks. “He has so many demands made on him. I couldn’t do it. Could you?”
“I don’t believe I’d like to,” confessed Harry. “Still, there ought to be some way out for you. I’m going to try to find it. I’ll think as hard as I can and next Monday I’ll try to come here again. If I can’t I’ll write you.”
“You’re a good boy; a good boy,” repeated Mr. Barton. “I don’t deserve it. I never did anything for you except make you trouble. You shame me, Harry.” Again he appeared on the verge of breaking down.
“Now, Mr. Barton,” Harry laid his hand lightly on that of the sick man. “You mustn’t think of that. It’s not good for you. We’re going to be friends from now on and I’m going to help you. I must hurry back to the store at once. Oh, yes, I wanted to ask you, will your beneficiary money pay your board here?”
“Yes; it’s seven dollars a week and that is what I am entitled to draw. There is one thing I’d like to ask you to do. Draw the salary that’s coming to me from the store and pay my board at Wayland Street. It’s nine dollars. There’s just about money enough owing me to pay it. Ask the nurse for a pen and paper and I’ll write you an order. Give it to the pay-master and he’ll give you the money. I haven’t anyone else that I can ask. I could write to the store, but it would be quicker for me to have you attend to it. Will you do it?” he quavered anxiously.