The bartender, a new one from across the line, a dapper
chap with diamonds, was indignant. "I'll give that old
man a straight pointer," he said, "that his girl has to
stay out of here. This is no place for women, anyway"--which
is true, God knows.

Five years went by and Mary Barner lived on in the lonely
house and did all that human power could do to stay her
father's evil course. But the years told heavily upon
him. He had made some fatal mistakes in his prescribing,
and the people had been compelled to get in another
doctor, though a great many of those who had known him
in his best days still clung to the "old man" in spite
of his drinking. They could not forget how he had fought
with death for them and for their children.

Of all his former skill but little remained now except
his wonderful presence in the sick-room.

He could still inspire the greatest confidence and hope.
Still at his coming a sick man's fears fell away from
him, and in their stead came hope and good cheer. This
was the old man's good gift that even his years of sinning
could not wholly destroy. God had marked him for a great
physician.



CHAPTER III
THE PINK LADY