Detective and mystery stories; Murder -- Investigation -- Fiction; Nurses -- Fiction; Washington (D.C.) Region -- Fiction
"Very well." Doctor Roberts spoke more crisply. "Miss Ward will be
here to look after you. You must do what she says. I'll see you in the
morning. Good night."
His remark met with no response, and picking up his bag Roberts started
from the room. At the door he paused and motioned to Miss Ward to
follow him. Stopping long enough to arrange Abbott's pillow in a more
comfortable position, the nurse went into the hall, only to find that
Doctor Roberts was halfway down the staircase. With a doubtful look
behind her, Miss Ward ran lightly down into the lower hall which,
lighted only by oil lamps, was long and rambling and used as a living
room. Doctor Roberts walked over to a table and put down his bag.
"I am glad that you are here, Miss Ward," he began, courteously.
"I feared the storm would detain you. You have not nursed for me
before?"--with an inquisitive glance at the pretty woman before him.
"No, Doctor." Miss Ward's tapering fingers pressed out a crease in her
starched gown. "This is my first case since my arrival in Washington."
"Oh! You are a graduate nurse?"
"Yes. I trained in New York." Her hazel eyes met his steadily. "They
told me at the hospital of the urgency of this case and I took a taxi
out here."
"Quite right. Add all your expenses to your bill," directed Roberts.
"Paul Abbott has ample means. He should be in a hospital."
"But his condition, doctor."
Roberts nodded. "That is out of the question," he agreed, "_now_.
Had his caretaker sent for me in time I would have had Mr. Abbott
moved from this God-forsaken location to the city. As it is"--he
pulled himself up short--"we must do the best we can ten miles from
civilization." His smile vanished as quickly as it had come. "I am no
lover of the country in the dead of winter. What time did you get here?"
"An hour ago. Have you any orders, doctor?"
"You can give him a dose of this through the night"--taking out a small
phial and handing it to her--"the directions are on the bottle. It is
essential that Mr. Abbott have sleep; if necessary, give him this by
hypodermic." And he handed her two pellets.
"What stimulation do you wish me to use in case of sudden collapse?"
Miss Ward asked as Roberts picked up his bag and walked toward the
front door.
"Strychnine, twentieth of a grain," brusquely, as the hall clock chimed
ten, but his hurried exit was checked by a further question.
"Has Mr. Abbott any family to be notified in case his condition becomes
dangerous?" asked Miss Ward.
"No immediate relations." Doctor Roberts was manifestly impatient
to be off. "There's a girl--Betty Carter--but I'm not sure that the
engagement isn't broken. Good night." The high wind drove the snow,
which had drifted up on the broad veranda, in whirling gusts through
the front door and half blinded Roberts as he held it partly open. With
a muttered oath he dashed outside to his automobile, parked under the
shelter of the _porte cochère_.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account