An explosion at the night

All that month Andrew worked from early morning till late at night. He loved his work. His patients were already almost well. The results of his work were even better than those of Denny’s. The epidemic was coming to an end.
On the tenth of November Denny suddenly rang him up.
“Manson! I’d like to see you. Can you come to my place at three o’clock? It’s important.”
“Very well. I’ll be there!”
On the way to Denny’s house he saw Doctor Bramwell.
“Ah, Manson, my boy! I’m so glad to see you.”
Andrew smiled. Doctor Bramwell, unlike Lewis, had been friendly towards Manson all that month. “Of course, we have all heard of your work with the typhoid cases, and we are proud of you, my dear boy. You must come to see us one evening.”
Andrew promised to come.
When Andrew entered Denny’s room, he saw immediately that something was wrong with Denny.

He was very sad.
After a moment he looked up.
“One of my patients, a boy, died this morning,” he said coldly. “And besides, I have two new typhoid cases. What shall we do?”
Andrew stood at the door, hardly knowing what to say.
“We have to do something about it,” he began. “We must write to the Ministry of Health.”
“We could write a dozen letters but it won’t help much, I tell you. No! There’s only one way to make them build a new sewer.”
“How?”
“Blow up the old one. And let’s do it tonight!”
“But there will be a lot of trouble if it becomes known.”
Denny looked up angrily.
“You needn’t take part in it if you don’t want to.”
“I’ll go with you,” Andrew answered.
He understood it was a crime, a dangerous game with the police. They might even strike him off at the very beginning of his beautiful career. Yet, he himself did not know why he could not refuse.
At eleven o’clock that night Denny and he started in the direction of Glydar Street. It was very dark. There was nobody in the street. The town was sleeping.
The two men moved quietly. In the pocket of his coat Denny had six small boxes of dynamite; each box had a hole in it, and a fuse. There was an electric torch in Andrew’s hand.
Soon they reached the first manhole of the sewer in Glydar Street. Andrew’s heart was beating fast. It was very difficult for them to open the cover, but after a short struggle it was done. Andrew took the electric torch out of his pocket. They saw a dirty stream running on the broken stone floor.
“Nice, isn’t it?” Denny whispered.
“Take a look at the terrible holes in the floor. Take a last look, Manson. People are dying because of this, but the Council doesn’t want to do anything.”
No more was said. Andrew’s hands trembled, but he worked quickly. They set fire to the fuses, then threw the boxes into the dirty stream, put the manhole cover back in its place and ran into the darkness.
They heard an explosion, two, three, four, five and the last.
“By God!” Andrew shouted. “We have done it, Denny.”
He felt it was the best moment in his life. He almost loved the other man now.
They saw people running out of their houses and started walking home by the back ways.



An explosion at the night