“Try now,” said the doctor. Mr. Flynn smiled at him reproachfully. Mr. Flynn smiled at him reproachfully. “You can't walk because you think you can't,” said the doctor; “that is all. You'll have to be encouraged the same way that a child is. I should like to cure you, and I think I can.” “You can't walk because you think you can't,” said the doctor; “that is all. You'll have to be encouraged the same way that a child is. I should like to cure you, and I think I can.” He took a small canvas bag from the other man and opened it. “Forty pounds,” he said. “Would you like to count it?” He took a small canvas bag from the other man and opened it. “Forty pounds,” he said. “Would you like to count it?” Mr. Flynn's eyes shone. Mr. Flynn's eyes shone. “It is all yours,” said the doctor, “if you can walk across the room and take it from that gentleman's hand.” “It is all yours,” said the doctor, “if you can walk across the room and take it from that gentleman's hand.” “Honour bright?” asked Mr. Flynn, in tremulous tones, as the other man held up the bag and gave him an encouraging smile. “Honour bright?” asked Mr. Flynn, in tremulous tones, as the other man held up the bag and gave him an encouraging smile. “Honour bright,” said the doctor. “Honour bright,” said the doctor. With a spring that nearly broke the bed, Mr. Flynn quitted it and snatched the bag, and at the same moment Mrs. Scutts, impelled by a maddened arm, burst into the room. With a spring that nearly broke the bed, Mr. Flynn quitted it and snatched the bag, and at the same moment Mrs. Scutts, impelled by a maddened arm, burst into the room. “Your back!” she moaned. “It'll kill you Get back to bed.” “Your back!” she moaned. “It'll kill you Get back to bed.” “I'm cured, lovey,” said Mr. Flynn, simply.
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