“It was a private case of old Meyerovitch's, and he decided on immediate operation. Now Mererovitch was one of the few really good surgeons who wouldn't use either the McBurney or Kamerer incision for appendicitis. He just cut down over the trouble and through everything in one line."
"Fool!"
"Most of us thought so then, but somehow Meverovitch always got good results—always."
"Pure accident."
"Perhaps so. But, anyhow, when little Ina was under the anaesthetic, and Meyerovitch had his knife in one hand—his left, by the way—and was testing the tension of the abdomen with the other hand he said, 'I will need plenty of room here.' And then he surprised us all by making a reversed Senn incision."
"I don't seem to remember that incision," said Carlson, after a slight pause. "What is it?"
"An S-shaped incision devised by Nicholas Senn when he was Professor of Surgery at Rush Medical College. You young fellows in New York don't as a rule know about that incision."
"But, Edwards. as I remember, Senn recommended the McBurney method in his book."
"Yes, for appendicitis. He only used the S in neck operations. And so when Meverovitch used it on Ina Holden. it was the first time on record for appendicitis and probably the last."
"Most likely. And how did the case get along?"
"Better than any of us expected. It was a drainage case, of course, and took some time to dry up. But the wound finally healed perfectly, with no suggestion of weakness, and left a large scar like a reversed S."
"Meyerovitch's bull luck."
"Yes. I saw the child every day for more than a month and got much attached to her. She wouldn't let anyone else dress the wound, and after she went home, the family often invited me to the house."
"They're very rich, aren't they?"
"They are, now, but they weren't then. Mr. Holden owned some manganese land in California, and when the Western Pacific laid its tracks over a corner of his property, he was a rich man."
The colleagues silently finished their illegal glasses. Then Edwards looked at his watch and rose from his chair.
"Good night, Herbert, and many thanks for the drink."
Carlson, alone, looked at a memorandum that his sister had left on his desk.
"Nothing more for tonight, thank God," he thought with relief.
He closed and fastened the windows, bolted the door, and was passing into his bedroom, when the telephone rang.
"Damn! Why didn't I muffle it?"
He put the receiver to his ear.
"Well?" he said abruptly.
"Doctor Carlson speaking?"
"Yes."
"Can you come at once to a very sick case?"
"I'm sorry, but I can't. My car is out of order, and I'm not very well myself tonight."
"But this case is extremely urgent sir, and we don’t want anyone else but you."
"Thank you, but"
"Please listen, Doctor. I'll have a car for you in five minutes, and take you home afterwards, if you'll only come."
"Try another doctor first."
"We have tried, but can't find one of the only other two we have confidence in. Money is no object. Please do reconsider, Doctor."
"Who recommended me to you? Do I know you?"
"I do not know you personally. But you are highly recommended by the Brooklyn Hospital. Once more
