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 A chill raced down Rhamon's spine. The hospital! But when he looked up and saw the kindly eyes smiling at him, he was no longer afraid. He put his hand into the big doctor's, and felt quite willing to go with him anywhere, even to the hospital.

"You are in good hands, Rhamon," said his uncle. "You have nothing to fear." Then he gave Rhamon a small flat box. "It is a present from the American Sahib. He told me to give it to you the day that you went to the hospital."

Rhamon tore open the box and there lay the thing he had most wished for—the beautiful American penknife! "This will be my good-luck," he thought, and with a sigh of happiness, put it into his pocket.

Everything about the hospital was strange to Rhamon, the clean strong smell of the place, the nurses, the doctors, and the high bed with the white sheets, on which he slept. But his bright smile won him many friends and soon he felt quite happy.