Complete Works of L. Frank Baum

by L. Frank Baum

  “Do you consider this a wild goose chase, Doctor?” he asked.

  “Not with your fortune, your girls and your fine ship to back it. I think Miss Stanton’s idea of venturing abroad unattended, to nurse the wounded, was Quixotic in the extreme. Some American women are doing it, I know, but I don’t approve of it. On the other hand, your present plan is worthy of admiration and applause, for it is eminently practical if properly handled.”

  Dr. Barlow drummed upon the table with his fingers, musingly. Then he looked up.

  “I wonder,” said he, “if Gys would go. If you could win him over, he would fill the bill.”

  “Who is Gys?” inquired Uncle John.

  “An eccentric; a character. But clever and competent. He has just returned from Yucatan, where he accompanied an expedition of exploration sent out by the Geographical Society — and, by the way, nearly lost his life in the venture. Before that, he made a trip to the frozen North with a rescue party. Between times, he works in the hospitals, or acts as consulting surgeon with men of greater fame than he has won; but Gys is a rolling stone, erratic and whimsical, and with all his talent can never settle down to a steady practice.”

  “Seems like the very man I want,” said Uncle John, much interested. “Where can I find him?”

  “I’ve no idea. But I’ll call up Collins and inquire.”

  He took up the telephone receiver and got his number.

  “Collins? Say, I’m anxious to find Gys. Have you any idea — Eh? Sitting with you now? How lucky. Ask him if he will come to my office at once; it’s important.”

  Uncle John’s face was beaming with satisfaction. The doctor waited, the receiver at his ear.

  “What’s that, Collins?... He won’t come?... Why not?... Absurd!... I’ve a fine proposition for him.... Eh? He isn’t interested in propositions? What in thunder is he interested in?... Pshaw! Hold the phone a minute.”

  Turning to Mr. Merrick, he said:

  “Gys wants to go on a fishing trip. He plans to start to-night for the Maine woods. But I’ve an idea if you could get him face to face you might convince him.”

  “See if he’ll stay where he is till I can get there.”

  The doctor turned to the telephone and asked the question. There was a long pause. Gys wanted to know who it was that proposed to visit him. John Merrick, the retired millionaire? All right; Gys would wait in Collins’ office for twenty minutes.

  Uncle John lost no time in rushing to his motor car, where he ordered the driver to hasten to the address Dr. Barlow had given him.

  The offices of Dr. Collins were impressive. Mr. Merrick entered a luxurious reception room and gave his name to a businesslike young woman who advanced to meet him. He had called to see Dr. Gys.

  The young woman smothered a smile that crept to her lips, and led Uncle John through an examination room and an operating room — both vacant just now — and so into a laboratory that was calculated to give a well person the shivers. Here was but one individual, a man in his shirt-sleeves who was smoking a corncob pipe and bending over a test tube.

  Uncle John coughed to announce his presence, for the woman had slipped away as she closed the door. The man’s back was turned partially toward his visitor. He did not alter his position as he said:

  “Sit down. There’s a chair in the southwest corner.”

  Uncle John found the chair. He waited patiently a few moments and then his choler began to rise.

  “If you’re in such a blamed hurry to go fishing, why don’t you get rid of me now?” he asked.

  The shoulders shook gently and there was a chuckling laugh. The man laid down his test tube and swung around on his stool.

  For a moment Mr. Merrick recoiled. The face was seared with livid scars, the nose crushed to one side, the mouth crooked and set in a sneering grin. One eye was nearly closed and the other round and wide open. A more forbidding and ghastly countenance Mr. Merrick had never beheld and in his surprise he muttered a low exclamation.

  “Exactly,” said Gys, his voice quiet and pleasant. “I don’t blame you and I’m not offended. Do you wonder I hesitate to meet strangers?”

  “I — I was not — prepared,” stammered Uncle John.

  “That was Barlow’s fault. He knows me and should have told you. And now I’ll tell you why I consented to see you. No! never mind your own proposition, whatever it is. Listen to mine first. I want to go fishing, and I haven’t the money. None of my brother physicians will lend me another sou, for I owe them all. You are John Merrick, to whom money is of little consequence. May I venture to ask you for an advance of a couple of hundred for a few weeks? When I return I’ll take up your proposition, whatever it may be, and recompense you in services.”

  He refilled and relighted the corncob while Mr. Merrick stared at him in thoughtful silence. As a matter of fact, Uncle John was pleased with the fellow. A whimsical, irrational, unconventional appeal of this sort went straight to his heart, for the queer little man hated the commonplace most cordially.

  “I’ll give you the money on one condition,” he said.

  “I object to the condition,” said Gys firmly. “Conditions are dangerous.”

  “My proposition,” went on Uncle John, “won’t wait for weeks. When you hear it, if you are not anxious to take it up, I don’t want you. Indeed, I’m not sure I want you, anyhow.”

  “Ah; you’re frightened by my features. Most people with propositions are. I’m an unlucky dog, sir. They say it’s good luck to touch a hunchback; to touch me is the reverse. Way up North in a frozen sea a poor fellow went overboard. I didn’t get him and he drowned; but I got caught between two cakes of floating ice that jammed my nose out of its former perfect contour. In Yucatan I tumbled into a hedge of poisoned cactus and had to operate on myself — quickly, too — to save my life. Wild with pain, I slashed my face to get the poisoned tips of thorn out of the flesh. Parts of my body are like my face, but fortunately I can cover them. It was bad surgery. On another I could have operated without leaving a scar, but I was frantic with pain. Don’t stare at that big eye, sir; it’s glass. I lost that optic in Pernambuco and couldn’t find a glass substitute to fit my face. Indeed, this was the only one in town, made for a fat Spanish lady who turned it down because it was not exactly the right color.”

  “You certainly have been — eh — unfortunate,” murmured Uncle John.

  “See here,” said Gys, taking a leather book from an inside pocket of the coat that hung on a peg beside him, and proceeding to open it. “Here is a photograph of me, taken before I embarked upon my adventures.”

  Uncle John put on his glasses and examined the photograph curiously. It was a fine face, clean-cut, manly and expressive. The eyes were especially frank and winning.

  “How old were you then?” he asked.

  “Twenty-four.”

  “And now?”

  “Thirty-eight. A good deal happened in that fourteen years, as you may guess. And now,” reaching for the photograph and putting it carefully back in the book, “state your proposition and I’ll listen to it, because you have listened so patiently to me.”

  Mr. Merrick in simple words explained the plan to take a hospital ship to Europe, relating the incidents that led up to the enterprise and urging the need of prompt action. His voice dwelt tenderly on his girls and the loyal support of young Jones.

  Dr. Gys smoked and listened silently. Then he picked up the telephone and called a number.

  “Tell Hawkins I’ve abandoned that fishing trip,” he said. “I’ve got another job.” Then he faced Mr. Merrick. His smile was not pretty, but it was a smile.

  “That’s my answer, sir.”

  “But we haven’t talked salary yet.”

  “Bother the salary. I’m not mercenary.”

  “And I’m not sure — ”

  “Yes, you are. I’m going with you. Do you know why?”

  “It’s a novel project, very appealing from a humanitarian standpoint and — ”

 
“I hadn’t thought of that. I’m going because you’re headed for the biggest war the world has ever known; because I foresee danger ahead, for all of us; but mainly because — ”

  “Well?”

  “Because I’m a coward — a natural born coward — and I can have a lot of fun forcing myself to face the shell and shrapnel. That’s the truth; I’m not a liar. And for a long time I’ve been wondering — wondering — ” His voice died away in a murmur.

  “Well, sir?”

  Dr. Gys roused himself.

  “Oh; do you want a full confession? For a long time, then, I’ve been wondering what’s the easiest way for a man to die. No, I’m not morbid. I’m simply ruined, physically, for the practice of a profession I love, a profession I have fully mastered, and — I’ll be happier when I can shake off this horrible envelope of disfigurement.”

  CHAPTER IV

  THE HOSPITAL SHIP

  The energy of Doctor Gys was marvelous. He knew exactly what supplies would be needed to fit the Arabella thoroughly for her important mission, and with unlimited funds at his command to foot the bills, he quickly converted the handsome yacht into a model hospital ship. Gys from the first developed a liking for Kelsey, the mate, whom he found a valuable assistant, and the two came to understand each other perfectly. Kelsey was a quiet man, more thoughtful than experienced in medical matters, but his common sense often guided him aright when his technical knowledge was at fault.

  Captain Carg accepted the novel conditions thrust upon him, without a word of protest. He might secretly resent the uses to which his ship was being put, but his young master’s commands were law and his duty was to obey. The same feeling prevailed among the other members of the crew, all of whom were Sangoans.

  In three days Jones and Maud Stanton returned from Washington. They were jubilant over their success.

  “We’ve secured everything we wanted,” the boy told Uncle John, Beth and Patsy, with evident enthusiasm. “Not only have we the full sanction of the American Red Cross Society, but I have letters to the different branches in the war zone, asking for us every consideration. Not only that, but your senator proved himself a brick. What do you think? Here’s a letter from our secretary of state — another from the French charge d’affairs — half a dozen from prominent ambassadors of other countries! We’ve a free field in all Europe, practically, that will enable us to work to the best advantage.”

  “It’s wonderful!” cried Patsy.

  “Mr. Merrick is so well known as a philanthropist that his name was a magic talisman for us,” said Maud. “Moreover, our enterprise commands the sympathy of everyone. We had numerous offers of financial assistance, too.”

  “I hope you didn’t accept them,” said Uncle John nervously.

  “No,” answered the boy, “I claimed this expedition to be our private and individual property. We can now do as we please, being under no obligations to any but ourselves.”

  “That’s right,” said Uncle John. “We don’t want to be hampered by the necessity of advising with others.”

  “By the way, have you found a doctor?”

  “Yes.”

  “A good one?” asked Maud quickly.

  “Highly recommended, but homely as a rail fence,” continued Patsy, as her uncle hesitated.

  “That’s nothing,” said Ajo lightly.

  “Nothing, eh? Well, wait till you see him,” she replied. “You’ll never look Doctor Gys in the face more than once, I assure you. After that, you’ll be glad to keep your eyes on his vest buttons.”

  “I like him immensely, though,” said Beth. “He is clever, honest and earnest. The poor man can’t help his mutilations, which are the result of many unfortunate adventures.”

  “Sounds like just the man we wanted,” declared Ajo, and afterward he had no reason to recall that assertion.

  A week is a small time in which to equip a big ship, but money and energy can accomplish much and the news from the seat of war was so eventful that they felt every moment to be precious and so they worked with feverish haste. The tide of German success had turned and their great army, from Paris to Vitry, was now in full retreat, fighting every inch of the way and leaving thousands of dead and wounded in its wake.

  “How long will it take us to reach Calais?” they asked Captain Carg eagerly.

  “Eight or nine days,” said he.

  “We are not as fast as the big passenger steamers,” explained young Jones, “but with good weather the Arabella may be depended upon to make the trip in good shape and fair time.”

  On the nineteenth of September, fully equipped and with her papers in order, the beautiful yacht left her anchorage and began her voyage. The weather proved exceptionally favorable. During the voyage the girls busied themselves preparing their modest uniforms and pumping Dr. Gys for all sorts of information, from scratches to amputations. He gave them much practical and therefore valuable advice to guide them in whatever emergencies might arise, and this was conveyed in the whimsical, half humorous manner that seemed characteristic of him. At first Gys had shrunk involuntarily from facing this bevy of young girls, but they had so frankly ignored his physical blemishes and exhibited so true a comradeship to all concerned in the expedition, that the doctor soon felt perfectly at ease in their society.

  During the evenings he gave them practical demonstrations of the application of tourniquets, bandages and the like, while Uncle John and Ajo by turns posed as wounded soldiers. Gys was extraordinarily deft in all his manipulations and although Maud Stanton was a graduate nurse — with little experience, however — and Beth De Graf had studied the art for a year or more, it was Patsy Doyle who showed the most dexterity in assisting the doctor on these occasions.

  “I don’t know whether I’ll faint at the sight of real blood,” she said, “but I shall know pretty well what to do if I can keep my nerve.”

  The application of anaesthetics was another thing fully explained by Gys, but this could not be demonstrated. Patsy, however, was taught the use of the hypodermic needle, which Maud and Beth quite understood.

  “We’ve a big stock of morphia, in its various forms,” said the doctor, “and I expect it to prove of tremendous value in comforting our patients.”

  “I’m not sure I approve the use of that drug,” remarked Uncle John.

  “But think of the suffering we can allay by its use,” exclaimed Maud. “If ever morphia is justifiable, it is in war, where it can save many a life by conquering unendurable pain. I believe the discovery of morphine was the greatest blessing that humanity has ever enjoyed. Don’t you, Doctor Gys?”

  The one good eye of Gys had a queer way of twinkling when he was amused. It twinkled as the girl asked this question.

  “Morphine,” he replied, “has destroyed more people than it has saved. You play with fire when you feed it to anyone, under any circumstances. Nevertheless, I believe in its value on an expedition of this sort, and that is why I loaded up on the stuff. Let me advise you never to tell a patient that we are administering morphine. The result is all that he is concerned with and it is better he should not know what has relieved him.”

  On a sunny day when the sea was calm they slung a scaffold over the bow and painted a big red cross on either side of the white ship. Everyone aboard wore the Red Cross emblem on an arm band, even the sailors being so decorated. Uncle John was very proud of the insignia and loved to watch his girls moving around the deck in their sober uniforms and white caps.

  Jones endured the voyage splendidly and by this time had convinced himself that he was not again to be subject to the mal-de-mer of his first ocean trip. As they drew near to their destination an atmosphere of subdued excitement pervaded the Arabella, for even the sailors had caught the infection of the girls’ eagerness and were anxious to get into action at the earliest moment.

  It was now that Uncle John began to busy himself with his especial prize, a huge motor ambulance he had purchased in New York and which had been fully equipped for the requir
ements of war. Indeed, an enterprising manufacturer had prepared it with the expectation that some of the belligerent governments would purchase it, and Mr. Merrick considered himself fortunate in securing it. It would accommodate six seriously wounded, on swinging beds, and twelve others, slightly wounded, who might be able to sit upon cushioned seats. The motor was very powerful and the driver was protected from stray bullets by an armored hood.

  In addition to this splendid machine, Mr. Merrick had secured a smaller ambulance that had not the advantage of the swinging beds but could be rushed more swiftly to any desired location. Both ambulances were decorated on all sides with the emblem of the Red Cross and would be invaluable in bringing the wounded to the Arabella. The ship carried a couple of small motor launches for connecting the shore with her anchorage.

  They had purposely brought no chauffeurs with them, as Uncle John believed foreign drivers, who were thoroughly acquainted with the country, would prove more useful than the American variety, and from experience he knew that a French chauffeur is the king of his profession.

  During the last days of the voyage Mr. Merrick busied himself in carefully inspecting every detail of his precious vehicles and explaining their operation to everyone on board. Even the girls would be able to run an ambulance on occasion, and the boy developed quite a mechanical talent in mastering the machines.

  “I feel,” said young Jones, “that I have had a rather insignificant part in preparing this expedition, for all I have furnished — aside from the boat itself — consists of two lots of luxuries that may or may not be needed.”

  “And what may they be?” asked Dr. Gys, who was standing in the group beside him.

  “Thermos flasks and cigarettes.”

  “Cigarettes!” exclaimed Beth, in horror.

  The doctor nodded approvingly.

  “Capital!” said he. “Next to our anodynes and anaesthetics, nothing will prove so comforting to the wounded as cigarettes. They are supplied by nurses in all the hospitals in Europe. How many did you bring?”

  “Ten cases of about twenty-five thousand each.”

  “A quarter of a million cigarettes!” gasped Beth.