or, The Silver Skates 265

“If any one in Holland can, mynheer,” murmured the
assistant with honest bluntness, “ it is yourself.”

The doctor looked displeased, growled out a tender request
for the student to talk less, and beckoned Hans to draw near.

This strange man had a great horror of speaking to women,
especially on surgical matters. ‘¢ One can never tell,” he
said, ““what moment the creatures will scream or faint.”
Therefore he explained Raff Brinker’s case to Hans, and told
him what he believed should be done to save the patient.

Hans listened attentively, growing red and pale by turns,
and throwing quick, anxious glances toward the bed.

“It may 4&i// the father, did you say, mynheer!” he
exclaimed at last, in a trembling whisper.

“Tt may, my boy. But I have a strong belief that it will
cure, and not kill. Ah, if boys were not such dunces! I
could lay the whole matter before you; but it would be of
no use.”

Hans looked blank at this compliment.

“Tt would be of no use,” repeated Dr. Boekman, indig-
nantly. “A great operation is proposed; but one might as
well do it with a hatchet. The only question asked is, ¢ Will
it kill??”

“The question is everything to us, mynheer,” said Hans,
with tearful dignity.

Dr. Boekman looked at him in sudden dismay.

“Ah, exactly so! ‘You are right, boy: I am a fool!
Good boy. One does not wish one’s father killed, — of
course not. I am a fool!”

‘Will he die, mynheer, if this sickness goes on? ”

“Humph! This is no new illness.) The same thing
growing worse every instant, — pressure on the brain. Will