He may live to be thirty." "But I tell you, Baird, I'll do anything!" "There's almost nothing you can do.

If he had been taken when he was a baby, he might have been cured and given a chance.

But the same mother who dropped him then, when she was full of liquor, just went to the druggist on her block, and after listening to his advice she bought some patent medicine, a steel jacket and some crutches, and thought she'd done her duty." "But there must be something we can do!" retorted Roger angrily.
"Yes," said Baird, "we can make him a little more comfortable.

And meanwhile we can help Deborah here to get hold of other boys like John and give 'em a chance before it's too late--keep them from being crippled for life because their mothers were too blind and ignorant to act in time." Baird's voice had a ring of bitterness.
"Most of 'em love their children," Roger said uneasily.

Baird turned on him a steady look.
"Love isn't enough," he retorted.