The Clockwork Twin by Walter R. Brooks

frowning. “Well, what do you expect,” she said, “if you won’t eat your breakfast?”
    So she stood and argued with him for a while, and then as he still said he was too weak to get up, she went and called her husband.
    â€œIf he’s really sick,” she said, “we must get him in the house.”
    So Adoniram’s uncle leaned down to get hold of him.
    â€œNo, no, it hurts,” said Bertram. “Don’t touch me.” For Ronald was afraid that if they tried to carry Bertram, they’d find out what he really was.
    â€œHave to call a doctor, I guess,” said Adoniram’s uncle.
    â€œNonsense,” said his wife. “Spend good money on doctor’s bills for a worthless lump of a boy? I guess not! I guess you wish you’d let those people adopt him now. What good is he?”
    So they argued for a while, and at last agreed to call the doctor.
    Dr. Murdock was a red-faced old gentleman with white whiskers and glasses that kept falling off. “Well, well, well,” he said when he saw Bertram, “what have we here?” And he felt of Bertram’s wrist. “Pulse very feeble,” he said. “Looks like starvation to me.” And he stared very hard at Adoniram’s uncle and aunt.
    They both started explaining at once, how the boy had refused his breakfast, and how they always fed him well, and how good they were to him.
    â€œYes, yes, yes,” said Dr. Murdock impatiently. “I know all about that. I heard him yelling this morning when I stopped in to see old Mrs. Scrunch’s rheumatism. Guess you licked him a little too hard, eh?”
    Then he bent down and put his ear to Bertram’s chest to listen to his heart.
    â€œDoctor,” whispered Ronald. “I want to tell you something. Send them away.”
    Dr. Murdock started violently when he heard this whisper coming out of a chest where a heart should have been beating. But like most doctors, he was never very much surprised at anything he found inside his patients, and when he had recovered his glasses, which had fallen off when he jumped, he sent Adoniram’s uncle and aunt away. They didn’t want to go very much, but he made them.
    â€œTurn me over, doctor,” said Ronald, and with a good deal of heaving and grunting, and remarks about what a husky boy Adoniram was, to be sure, the doctor turned him on his face. And Ronald opened the door and came out.
    Well, this did surprise Dr. Murdock, for he had never found a rooster in any of his patients before. “Upon my soul!” he exclaimed. “A rooster!”
    â€œYes, sir,” said Ronald. And then he told the doctor the whole story.
    â€œHumph,” said the doctor when he had finished. “Well, there’s one thing I’ll say: you’re the easiest case to cure I ever had.” And he took hold of the key and wound Bertram up. “How long do you plan to stay here?”
    â€œI don’t know,” said Ronald. “I expect I could go back most any time now. I don’t suppose they’ll come for Adoniram again, do you? After this?”
    â€œI shouldn’t think so,” said Dr. Murdock. “I should think they’d be glad to have this Mr. Bean adopt him. But I don’t know. They’re mean people. I think if you could stay a few more days, so they will realize thoroughly that there’s no more work to be got out of you—and maybe you’ll think up some other ways of being disagreeable. They’ve mistreated that boy shamefully. They deserve any unpleasantness you can make for them. And, of course, I’ll tell them that I have to see you every day for a few days—so I can come over and keep Bertram, here, wound up, you see?”
    So then Ronald got back into the control room and showed Dr. Murdock a few of the things Bertram could do, and then the doctor went up to the house.
    Adoniram’s aunt and uncle were pretty mad at having