The Promise
Page 9
CHAPTER VIII
NEW FRIENDS
William Carmody opened his eyes to a sense of drowsy contentment andwell-being. That the elegantly appointed room over which his glancetraveled was not his room, disturbed him not at all.
He realized that his head was heavily bandaged and that thewhite-capped, linen-clad young woman at the window was a nurse. Hewatched her fingers move swiftly and surely in the fashioning of asmall round of needlework.
Her face was turned from him but somehow he knew that she was youngand, in a dreamy sort of way, hoped she was pretty. He thought ofattracting her attention but decided to prolong the suspense--thechances were against it--so many girls are not.
He closed his eyes and tried to think. The fact that he was in astrange room with his head swathed in bandages, and that a young andpossibly pretty nurse sat at the window, evidently for the purpose ofministering to him, suggested a hospital.
Young Carmody had never been in a hospital, but the atmosphere of thisroom did not in any way conform to his rather vague notion of what ahospital should be. There was no long row of white beds all just alike,nor white walls, nor tiled floors over which people tip-toed to and froand talked in hurried, low-voiced tones; nor was the air laden with thesmell of drugs which he had always associated in his mind with suchplaces. He must ask the nurse.
He was so drowsily comfortable that it was with an effort he opened hiseyes. A rebellious lock of hair strayed from under her cap as sheleaned over her work. The sunlight caught it and through the richthreads of its length shot tiny glints of gold.
"Ethel!" The name sprang involuntarily from his lips and even as hespoke he smiled at the thought. The girl laid aside her work andcrossed to the bed.
"You called?" she asked, and the man realized vaguely that her voicewas low and very pleasant.
"Yes--that is, no--I mean, you _are_ pretty, aren't you?" He smiledfrankly up at her, and somehow the smile was contagious--she evenblushed slightly.
"You must excuse me this time," he continued, "I must have beenthinking out loud."
"You seem to be a--well, a rather abrupt young man," she smiled. "Butyou must not try to think--yet. And my name is not Ethel."
"Oh, that's all right. You can't help that, you know--I mean, I thinkyour name is very pretty--whatever it is," he floundered. "The truthis, I don't seem to be able to say what I do mean. But really I am nota fool, although I don't suppose you will ever believe it."
"There, you have talked quite enough. The doctor said you must rest andnot get excited." She smoothed the covers with little pats of her softhands.
"But what I want to know," he persisted, with a frown of perplexity,"is, where am I?"
"You are all right," she soothed. "You are here."
"But why am I here?"
"Because. Now go to sleep like a good boy. The doctor will be herebefore long and he will hold me responsible for your condition."
Oddly enough her answers seemed eminently sufficient and satisfactory,and he closed his eyes and slept contentedly.
Hours later he was awakened by the opening of a door.
A tall, dark man, with a brown beard neatly trimmed to a point, enteredclosely followed by an elderly man who carried his arm in a sling, andwhom young Carmody recognized as his fellow-passenger of the smoker.
At once the whole train of recent events flashed through his brain: thewild escapade on Broadway, the scene with his father, his parting withEthel Manton, the wreck, and his fight in the dark--each in its propersequence.
He was very wide awake now and watched the brown-bearded man eagerly ashe picked up a chart from the table and scrutinized it minutely.
"How is the head?" the man asked, with his fingers on the pulse.
"Fine, doctor. Wouldn't know I had one if it were not for thesebandages. And your arm, sir?" he added, with a smile of recognitiontoward the elderly man.
"Doing fairly, thank you. It is broken, but our friend here thinks itwill come along all right."
The doctor, with a nod of approval returned the watch to his pocket andwas preparing to leave when his patient detained him with a question.
"I have not been able to locate myself. This is not a hospital, is it?"
"Hardly," smiled the other, "although it answers the purpose admirably.This is the Brownstone Hotel."
"With rooms at twenty per!" gasped the invalid. "Doctor, some one hasblundered. After buying my railroad ticket I had just four dollarsleft, and no chance in the world of getting hold of any more until Iconnect with a job."
The men laughed.
"I must be going," said the doctor. "You two can chat for a while.Don't tire yourself out, young man, and in a day or two you will be fitas a fiddle. Wish I had your physique! That system of yours is anatural shock absorber. We run across them once in a longwhile--half-killed one day and back the next hunting for more on therebound."
At the door he paused: "Take care of yourself, eat anything that looksgood to you, smoke if you want to, talk, read, sleep, and in themorning we will let you get up and stretch your legs. Good by!"
"Some doctor, that," laughed the patient. "Does a man good just to hearhim talk. Most of them go away leaving the patient guessing whether thenext visit will be from them or the undertaker--and rather hoping forthe latter. But with this fellow the professional man is swallowed upin the human being--he fairly radiates life."
The other smiled as he settled himself into the chair near the bedside,vacated by the physician.
"Yes, he is a great doctor. Stands well toward the head of hisprofession. We have no finer in the Northwest." Young Carmody's faceclouded.
"But how am I to pay for all this? It is all well enough for you tolaugh, but to me it is a serious matter. I----"
"Young man, you are my guest. I don't know who you are, nor where youcame from, but, by gad, I know a man when I see one! From the time yousat in that game to save that poor young fool from being fleeced untilyou dove into that black hole and throttled that skunk----"
"They caught him, did they?"
"Caught him! They had to pry him loose! You have got the grip of thedevil himself. The police surgeon told me they would have to put awhole new set of plumbing in his throat. Said he wouldn't have believedthat any living thing, short of a gorilla, could have clamped down thathard with one hand.
"And there I had to lie pinned down and watch him go through a deadman's pockets--it was our friend the reporter. And then he turnedaround and calmly went through mine. Gad! If I'd had a gun! All thetime he kept up a run of talk, joking about the wreck and the easypickings it gave him.
"He was disappointed when he failed to find you--said he owed yousomething for gumming his game. Well, he found you all right--and whenhe gets out of the hospital he is slated for twenty years in Joliet."The man paused and glanced at his watch.
"Bless my soul! It is after two o'clock! We will have luncheon servedhere."
"It is a peculiar situation," mused the invalid. "The last thing Iremember is being in the thick of a railroad wreck, and here I wake upin bed, with a trained nurse in the room, to find myself the guest of aman whose name I do not even know."
"Appleton--H. D. Appleton, of Minneapolis. I am a lumberman--justreturning from the National Lumberman's Convention in Buffalo. Andyours?"
He was interrupted by a tap at the door and a couple of waiters enteredbearing trays.