SWIFT RETRIBUTION
I
IT was evening. Sitting inside the Telegraph Office at Sirajpur Railway Station, Dr. Hara Govind Chatterjee, addressing the young operator, said—"You needn't feel anxious. Send somebody with me and I will give him a powder and a mixture for your little boy, to be taken once in two hours. It is nothing serious."
"Thanks very much indeed,"—replied the telegraph-operator—"Your assurance is a great relief to me, Sir. That's our only child you know, and my wife is greatly distressed over it. We really have passed some very anxious hours." Saying this, the telegraphist offered to pay the Doctor a couple of rupees, being the latter's usual fee for a visit and eight annas as his gharry hire.
The Doctor looked up smiling and said—"What's that? Oh no, no,—never mind, never mind. Keep your money, please."
"Thank you for your kindness, sir, all the same.—But—but—it would be extremely unfair to you if I did not pay for your trouble,"—the young man pleaded.
