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THE STRAND MAGAZINE . 
Mrs. Scutts shook her head. “ His pore 
hack don’t seem no better, sir/ 5 she said, in a 
low voice. “ Can't you do something for it ? 55 
“ Let me have a look at it/ 5 said the doctor. 
“ Undo your shirt.” 
Mr. Flynn, with slow fingers, fumbled with 
the button at his neck and looked hard at Mrs. 
Scutts. 
“ She can’t bear to see me suffer,” he said, 
in a feeble voice, as she left the room. 
He bore the examination with the fortitude 
“ It is all yours/ 5 said the doctor, “ if you 
can walk across the room and take it from 
that gentleman’s hand. 57 
“ Honour bright ? 55 asked Mr. Flynn, in 
tremulous tones, as the other man held up 
the bag and gave him an encouraging smile. 
“ Honour bright,” said the doctor. 
With a spring that nearly broke the bed, 
Mr. Flynn quitted it and snatched the bag, 
and at the same moment Mrs. Scutts, impelled 
by a maddened arm, burst into the room. 
“WITH A SPRING THAT NEARLY BROKE THE BEL, MR. FLYNN QUITTED IT AND SNATCHED 
THE BAG . 55 
of an early Christian martyr. In response 
to inquiries he said he felt as though the main- 
spring of his back had gone. 
“ How long since you walked ? ” inquired 
the doctor. 
“ Not since the accident,” said Mr. Flynn, 
firmly. 
“ fry now/ 7 said the doctor. 
Mr. Flynn smiled at him reproachfully. 
“ You can’t walk because you think you 
can’t,” said the doctor ; “ that is all. \ ou 11 
have to be encouraged the same way that a 
child is. I should like to cure you, and l 
think I can.” 
He took a small canvas bag from the other 
man and opened it. “Forty pounds/ 5 he 
said. “ Would you like to count it ? ” 
Mr. Flynn’s eyes shone. 
“ Your back 1 ” she moaned. “ It’ll kill 
you. Get back to bed.” 
“ I’m cured, lovey/’ said Mr. Flynn, 
simply. 
“ His back is as strong as ever,” said the 
doctor, giving it a thump. 
Mr. Flynn, who had taken his do hes from 
a chair "and was hastily dressing himself, 
assented . 
“ But if you’ll wait ’arf a tick I'll walk as 
far as the corner with you, ’ he said, quickly. 
“ I’d like to make sure it’s all right.” 
He paused at the foot of the stairs and, 
glancing up at the pallid and murderous faie 
of Mr. Scutts, which protruded from the back 
bedroom, smiled at him rapturously. Then, 
with a lordly air, he tossed him five pieces of 
gold. 
