Johnny Rosenfeld was not asleep. An incredible thing had happened to him.
A fortune lay under his pillow. He was sure it was there, for ever since
it came his hot hand had clutched it.
He was quite sure that somehow or other K. had had a hand in it. When he
disclaimed it, the boy was bewildered.
"It'll buy the old lady what she wants for the house, anyhow," he said.
"But I hope nobody's took up a collection for me. I don't want no
charity."
"Maybe Mr. Howe sent it."
"You can bet your last match he didn't."
In some unknown way the news had reached the ward that Johnny's friend, Mr.
Le Moyne, was a great surgeon. Johnny had rejected it scornfully.
"He works in the gas office," he said, "I've seen him there. If he's a
surgeon, what's he doing in the gas office. If he's a surgeon, what's he
doing teaching me raffia-work? Why isn't he on his job?"
But the story had seized on his imagination.
"Say, Mr. Le Moyne."
"Yes, Jack."
He called him "Jack." The boy liked it. It savored of man to man. After
all, he was a man, or almost. Hadn't he driven a car? Didn't he have a
state license?
"They've got a queer story about you here in the ward."
"Not scandal, I trust, Jack!"
"They say that you're a surgeon; that you operated on Dr. Wilson and saved
his life. They say that you're the king pin where you came from." He eyed
K. wistfully. "I know it's a damn lie, but if it's true--"
"I used to be a surgeon. As a matter of fact I operated on Dr. Wilson
to-day. I--I am rather apologetic, Jack, because I didn't explain to you
sooner. For--various reasons--I gave up that--that line of business.
To-day they rather forced my hand."
"Don't you think you could do something for me, sir?"
When K. did not reply at once, he launched into an explanation.
"I've been lying here a good while. I didn't say much because I knew I'd
have to take a chance. Either I'd pull through or I wouldn't, and the odds
were--well, I didn't say much. The old lady's had a lot of trouble. But
now, with THIS under my pillow for her, I've got a right to ask. I'll take
a chance, if you will."
"It's only a chance, Jack."
"I know that. But lie here and watch these soaks off the street. Old, a lot
of them, and gettin' well to go out and starve, and--My God! Mr. Le Moyne,
they can walk, and I can't."