"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 285 - Fountain of Death" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

"It is my own rule. I should keep it."

"But when it comes to opportunity," asserted Johnny, "it's one thing I don't deserve."

"Why not?" inquired Elder. "You can make your own opportunities, you know."
"I only hope so. I owe a lot I ought to repay."

"To whom?"

"To you, Mr. Elder." Johnny leaned forward, earnestly. "I was all set to pitch myself into the street from a
range of twenty stories, when my friends took hold of me."

"At least you have a few friends left," smiled Elder. "Why not thank them instead of me?"

"Because they shipped me here to be rid of me. They just didn't want their nice sidewalk splattered.
You're the man who put me straight."

Elder had risen from the desk and was coming around it. He laid a firm hand upon Johnny's shoulder.

"You're the man who will keep yourself that way," declared Elder. "You were weak, but I have made
you strong. The rest is yours to maintain or acquire: health, happiness, wealth -"

"Did you say wealth?" Subsided into his more normal self, Johnny gave a hearty laugh. "That's a long way
off."

"The long way can always become a short way."

"I hope you're right," decided Johnny, "because I owe you plenty, Mr. Elder."

"You owe me nothing, nor does anyone else."

"But if you run this place free, how do you manage to get along?"

"I have found the short way," replied Elder with a smile. "When you have found it, you will understand."

Timed almost to Elder's final statement, a polite rap sounded at the door. In response to Elder's call of
"Come in" a drab-faced man entered. He was one of the attendants at the Springs, an unofficious fellow,
whose main job seemed to be to dip out Sapphire Water and distribute it to the guests.

"Hello, Kirkwood," greeted Elder. Then, to Johnny: "You know Kirkwood, of course."

Johnny gave a matter-of-fact nod. Vaguely he recalled that the drab man's name was Kirkwood and that
was sufficient. Judged by his expressionless face, Kirkwood could hardly be cultivated, even as a mere
acquaintance.

"The car is ready, sir."

Kirkwood gave the information in a dull, but methodical tone, which Elder acknowledged with a bow.
Then, clasping hands with Johnny, the gray-haired healer stated: