bustling cook prepared the generously supplied platters they were to carry back to the cabin with them.
Dr. Gilchrist had assured them that Ed Hurley, though badly hurt, would come through it alive and, ultimately, as good as new; Steele, a good deal shaken because of Hurley's injuries and the part he himself had innocently played in the matter, wanted to be further assured that Dr. Gilchrist could be trusted utterly in his decision. Carruthers, playing Oliver Twist not only to his coffee but the whole breakfast, waxed enthusiastic upon the physician's extraordinary ability.
Gilchrist was a friend of Carruthers' father, an old college mate, a friend of young Carruthers himself, adored by Sylvia and further distinguished by the unqualified endorsement of the Twins. He was a man who, Carruthers devoutly believed, could accomplish anything he set his hand to. Why, look at Rose and Eddie Hurley! Gilchrist had taken a keen interest in them, had made them what they were this morning from doomed people of a year ago. That interest and its natural outgrowth and a theory of the doctor's were responsible for the good fortune of his being on hand now. He had another sanatorium down in Southern California; he maintained that these two of his patients had graduated from it; he argued that with proper care they would progress safely and rapidly into perfect, rugged health; he held himself responsible for another sanatorium to which such "graduates" as they should go. The climatic conditions of Southern California was indicated for certain of his patients; the
