Chapter XVII: More Mysteries

"WE have got to get a doctor just as quick as we can," Charley declared. "I wish you could go, Captain. I would rather be with him and do what little I can for him. I'm afraid he will not last till you can get a doctor over here."

"But I do not know how to run the launch," the old sailor reminded him.

"That is so, I will have to go," agreed the lad. "Well, I guess, you can do as much for him as I could. Keep his hand in hot water all the time and keep forcing the coffee down him every few minutes. I'll be back as quick as I can."

Seizing his hat Charley started for the dock on a run.

In a few minutes he was back, consternation on his face.

"Something's broke about the engine," he cried, "I can't start it up and I can't see to fix it in the dark. You'll have to go over in one of the skiffs, Captain. You will make better time than I could for you row better."

The old sailor was out and gone almost before he finished speaking, and in a minute Charley could hear the quick stroke of oars coming from the water.

"Do you think Massa Walt's goin' to die, Massa Chas?" Chris inquired in an awed whisper as they watched the stupefied lad.

"I am afraid so, Chris," Charley said, sadly. "Some of that awful poison has got into his blood. It checks the heart action. That is what I am giving the coffee for. It stimulates the heart and makes it work faster. But it is not powerful enough to overcome the deadening effect of the poison. It needs a powerful heart stimulant to do that. Whiskey would do fairly well. Oh! how I wish I had a couple of bottles of that aguardiente now!"

He lapsed into silence and sat sorrowfully watching his stricken chum, while Chris crouched at his side, deepest grief on his little ebony face.

Suddenly there came a sharp rap at the door, and Charley sprang to his feet.

"It can't be the doctor so quick," he said. "Come in," he called out.

There was no answer to his invitation and stepping to the door he flung it open.

Nothing but blank darkness greeted his searching eyes.

He stepped outside and looked around but the darkness was so dense he could not see twenty feet from the cabin.

Puzzled, he was turning back into the cabin when his foot came into contact with something on the step. He picked the object up and bore it to the light.

One glance and he gave a shout of joy. "Aguardiente, Chris," he cried. "May the Lord bless whoever put it there."

He seized a cup and pouring it half full of the fiery liquor forced it down his chum's throat.

He allowed a half hour to pass by, then administered another dose.

At times he fancied he could trace a slight return of color in his chum's pale face but, if any, it was so slight that he could not be certain.

At the end of an hour he gave a third stiff dose of the powerful stimulant.

"I wish the captain would get here with the doctor," he said, anxiously. "I can't see as he is improving any. I fancy most that stuff is doing is to help keep him from slipping away from us."

"Dat's de captain, now," Chris said, joyfully, as there came a brisk rap at the door.

It was not the captain but a young, athletic-looking man bearing a small, black, leather case.

"I am the doctor," he announced. "How is the boy? Still alive?"

"Yes, he is still living," said Charley, in relief, "but I don't think he will last much longer unless you can help him."

"What have you done for him?" the doctor inquired, as he knelt by the stricken lad and felt his pulse.

Charley told him briefly.

"Very good," the doctor commented. "Probably he would have died before now but for those aids. He is pretty far gone but maybe we can pull him around."

He laid off his coat and went to work. From his case he produced a hypodermic syringe and a box of tablets. "Some warm water and a spoon," he requested.

Chris was instantly at his side with the required articles.

He filled the spoon with warm water and dropped one of the tablets into it. It colored the water a beautiful scarlet.

"Permanganate of potash," he explained. "You fishermen ought to keep some always by you. It's invaluable in cases of snake-bites or other poisonous wounds."

He filled his syringe from the spoon and baring Walter's arm injected it into a vein.

"I expect your warm water treatment has drawn most of the poison from the wound, but we had better be on the safe side," he observed.

He partly filled a basin with warm water and dissolved another of the tablets in it. Then, with his keen, surgeon's lancet, he cut open the flesh around the puncture, washed it out thoroughly with the solution, and then bound it up in soft, white gauze.

"That is all we can do, now, but watch," he observed, when he had finished.

He sat down with Walter's wrist in his hand and waited the effect of the treatment.

"He is responding to the injection nobly," he said at last. "His pulse is getting quicker and his skin is becoming moist. Evidently there is not as much poison in the blood as I feared. Your prompt action has undoubtedly saved his life."

In half an hour he gave another injection and watched the result with satisfaction.

"Your friend is going to come out all right," he declared, cheerily.

A wave of relief swept over Charley. "We can never fully pay you for what you have done," he said, with a lump in his throat. "Money can never square the debt."

"That's all right," said the young doctor, heartily. "It's a matter of more than mere pay to most of us doctors when we are able to save a valuable life. I can do no more for your friend at present, but I'll leave some tablets with you to give him from time to time. I think the danger is over, although he will be a pretty sick boy for a couple of days from the reaction of the liquor and drugs he has taken, as well as from the poison itself, but with good nursing, he will pull through all right."

Counting out some tiny tablets, he gave them to Charley, seized his hat and case, and with a cheery "good night" opened the door and disappeared in the darkness.

He had been gone a full five minutes before Charley recalled that in his anxiety for his chum he had forgotten to ask his name or the amount of his bill.

"Not very polite, but the captain will find that out," he consoled himself. "I wonder why the captain did not come up with him. I suppose the dear old chap could not bear the sight of Walter's lying so death-like. Chris, make up some more good, strong coffee and cook some breakfast. The captain's going to be all worn out when he gets back."

Daylight was near at hand and with it came the old sailor, looking pale, worn and haggard in the morning light.

"Is Walter dead?" he greeted, in a trembling, anxious voice.

Charley laughed in sheer joyousness. "Dead nothing," he exulted. "He's getting better every minute. Why, didn't the doctor tell you that?"

"I couldn't find the doctor," said the old sailor, in relief. "There was none in Clearwater. I got up the telegraph agent and got him to telegraph to Tarpon Springs for one. He'll come on the noon train. It was the best I could do. I waited to hear from the telegram, that's what's kept me so long."

Charley stared at him. "Do you mean that you did not bring over the doctor that was here?"

"Are you crazy or am I?" demanded the old sailor. "What do you mean?"

"There was a doctor came about an hour after you left," said Charley, slowly. "He staid at least two hours. He gave Walter medicine which has pulled him through. He only left about an hour ago."

It was the captain's turn to stare. "I'll be jiggered," he said in awe, "and I saw no motor boat going or coming. Who was he, and how in the world did he know we needed him?"

Charley shook his head. "I'll give it up," he said. "However, he'll be back again and will solve the mystery."

But the doctor did not reappear. However, the noon train brought a physician from Tarpon Springs. Charley, who, by daylight, had easily found and repaired the engine break, went over in the launch and got him.

The new doctor was visibly annoyed when he examined Walter. "I do not understand why I was called on this case," he said, shortly. "The boy is out of all danger. He has had skilful treatment, most skilful treatment. I would not have come had I known there was already a doctor in charge."

Charley explained the circumstances.

"Your description fits, perfectly, Doctor Thompson of Tarpon Springs," the new doctor observed. "Did he have a finger missing on the left hand?"

"He did, the second finger," said Charley, recalling the circumstance.

The doctor studied the lad's face closely, started to speak, but checked himself.

He was silent during all the trip back to Clearwater but after he got out of the launch he turned and faced Charley.

"Young man," he said, coldly, "I do not know what your object was in telling me that string of lies, but I want to impress upon you that you have not deceived me."

Charley stared at him in hurt astonishment.

"Doctor Thompson dined with me last night," said the physician, icily. "We sat together after and talked in my study until one o'clock. At two o'clock, you say, he was at your camp, an impossible thing for Tarpon Springs is twenty miles away."

With a curt nod he turned and strode up the dock leaving behind him an offended, astonished, mystified boy.