He's giving a demonstration
that's almost theatrical."
Well, he insisted it was indigestion, although I argued that it wasn't
possible, and he wanted ipecac.
"I haven't seen a pharmacopoeia for so long that I wouldn't know one if
I met it," he declared, "but I've got a system of mnemonics that never
fails. Ipecac and colic both end with 'c'--I'll never forget that
conjunction. It was pounded in and poured in in my early youth."
Well, the pharmacy was locked, and we couldn't find a key to fit it. And
when I suggested mustard and warm water he jumped at the idea.
"Fine!" he said. "Better let me dish out the spring-water and you take
my job! Lead on, MacDuff, to the kitchen."
Although it was only midnight there was not a soul about. A hall leads
back of the office to the kitchen and pantries, and there was a low
light there, but the rest was dark. We bumped through the diet kitchen
and into the scullery, when we found we had no matches. I went back for
some, and when I got as far as the diet kitchen again Doctor Barnes was
there, just inside the door.
"Sh!" he whispered. "Come into the scullery. The kitchen is dark, but
there is somebody in there, fumbling around, striking matches. I suppose
you don't have such things as burglars in this neck of the woods?"
Well, somebody had broken into Timmons' candy store a week before and
stolen a box of chewing-gum and a hundred post-cards, and I told him so
in a whisper.
"Anyhow, it isn't the chef," I said.
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