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"Glad to see you back, Uncle Joe. Comfortable? Well,
well, how are you?" He shook his uncle's hand warmly. "Sorry to see
you laid up again, sir, but we'll have you as good as new in no time.
Eh, doctor? As good as new, eh?"
Uncle Joe had nothing to say. He clung to his nephew's hand and smiled
faintly.
Mr. Bingle looked puzzled. This was not like the Uncle Joe he had
known. He sent a questioning glance toward the sober-faced doctor, and
then sat down beside the bed, very much shaken by the news that came
to him in the significant shake of Dr. Fiddler's head.
After many minutes had passed, Uncle Joe began to speak to his nephew.
His voice was weak and the words came haltingly.
"Tom, you are a good boy--as good as gold. No, that isn't fair to you.
You're better than gold. I honestly believe you like me, wretched and
troublesome as I am. Your mother loved me, Tom. No one ever had a
sister who loved a brother more than she loved me. Thank God, she died
long before I came to this dreadful pass. She was spared seeing me as
I am now.


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