"Yes," he replied. "Though I knew it was of no use I called in Dr.
Howe, who lives up the street from the laboratory. I should have
called Dr. Harris, who used to be my own physician, but since his
return from Africa with the Borland expedition, he has not been in
very good health and has practically given up his practice. Dr.
Howe is the best practising physician in town, I think."
"We shall call on him to-morrow," said Craig, snapping his watch,
which already marked far after midnight. Dr. Howe proved, the next
day, to be an athletic-looking man, and I could not help noticing
and admiring his powerful frame and his hearty handshake, as he
greeted us when we dropped into his office with a card from
Winslow.
The doctor's theory was that Cushing had committed suicide.
"But why should a young man who had invented a new method of
polymerising isoprene, who was going to become wealthy, and was
engaged to a beautiful young girl, commit suicide?"
The doctor shrugged his shoulders. It was evident that he, too,
belonged to the "natural rubber set" which dominated Goodyear.
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