“Isn’t there some young fellow with these requirements?”

“Mr. Merrick, you need a physician and surgeon combined.  Wounds lead to fever and other serious ailments, which need skillful handling.  You might secure a young man, fresh from his clinics, who would prove a good surgeon, but to master the science of medicine, experience and long practice are absolutely necessary.”

“We’ve got a half-way medicine man on the ship now—­a fellow who has doctored the crew for years and kept ’em pretty healthy.  So I guess a surgeon will about fill our bill.”

“H-m, I know these ship’s doctors, Mr. Merrick, and I wouldn’t care to have you and your nieces trust your lives to one, in case you become ill.  Believe me, a good physician is as necessary to you as a good surgeon.  Do you know that disease will kill as many of those soldiers as bullets?”

“No.”

“It is true; else the history of wars has taught us nothing.  We haven’t heard much of plagues and epidemics yet, in the carefully censored reports from London, but it won’t be long before disease will devastate whole armies.”

Uncle John frowned.  The thing was growing complicated.

“Do you consider this a wild goose chase, Doctor?” he asked.

“Not with your fortune, your girls and your fine ship to back it.  I think Miss Stanton’s idea of venturing abroad unattended, to nurse the wounded, was Quixotic in the extreme.  Some American women are doing it, I know, but I don’t approve of it.  On the other hand, your present plan is worthy of admiration and applause, for it is eminently practical if properly handled.”

Dr. Barlow drummed upon the table with his fingers, musingly.  Then he looked up.

“I wonder,” said he, “if Gys would go.  If you could win him over, he would fill the bill.”

“Who is Gys?” inquired Uncle John.

“An eccentric; a character.  But clever and competent.  He has just returned from Yucatan, where he accompanied an expedition of exploration sent out by the Geographical Society—­and, by the way, nearly lost his life in the venture.  Before that, he made a trip to the frozen North with a rescue party.  Between times, he works in the hospitals, or acts as consulting surgeon with men of greater fame than he has won; but Gys is a rolling stone, erratic and whimsical, and with all his talent can never settle down to a steady practice.”

“Seems like the very man I want,” said Uncle John, much interested.  “Where can I find him?”

“I’ve no idea.  But I’ll call up Collins and inquire.”

He took up the telephone receiver and got his number.

“Collins?  Say, I’m anxious to find Gys.  Have you any idea—­Eh?  Sitting with you now?  How lucky.  Ask him if he will come to my office at once; it’s important.”

Uncle John’s face was beaming with satisfaction.  The doctor waited, the receiver at his ear.

“What’s that, Collins?...  He won’t come?...  Why not?...  Absurd!...  I’ve a fine proposition for him....  Eh?  He isn’t interested in propositions?  What in thunder is he interested in?...  Pshaw!  Hold the phone a minute.”