Cherry Ames Boxed Set 9-12
Page 17
He would start searching again, of course. Clever questioning of Timmy would lead Mr. Henry Landgraf straight to the door of the ship’s nurse’s cabin. And after that her office and then the dispensary. There probably wasn’t a spot he would overlook.
Quickly Cherry made up her mind. There was no time to lose. Taking the hot water bottle she hung it casually from one of the shower valves where it looked about as conspicuous as the soap dish.
After breakfast she sent Merry Christmas radiograms to her family and the Spencer Club. What a story she would have to tell them after this cruise! Midge’s eyes would probably pop right out of her head, and Charlie just wouldn’t believe a word of it. Neither would Gwen. Cherry could almost hear her sniff: “That’s enough, Ames! You read that yarn in your little patient’s pirate book.”
And then Cherry thought of Timmy—and the one perfect place to hide the precious ambre blanc. There was just one place on the whole ship where Mr. Henry Landgraf wouldn’t look. Simply because he had already searched it carefully—the drawer in the Crane suite which was crammed full with Timmy’s toys!
Timmy, Cherry felt sure, would spurn those toys now that Santa Claus had brought him so many new ones. He probably wouldn’t even open that drawer until his new Christmas presents had lost their charm.
Mrs. Crane greeted Cherry with: “Merry Christmas, dear. Tim has a present for you. Please excuse me, but I’m late for breakfast.”
Timmy, almost lost under billowing waves of Christmas wrappings, scrabbled around and finally came up with a thick, square box. He yelled, “I know what it is, but I won’t tell. I never tell secrets.” He thrust the box behind him impishly. “You’ve got to guess, Cherry. I won’t give it to you ‘less you do.”
Cherry laughed and said to Mrs. Crane, “You shouldn’t have bought me a present, but it was awfully sweet of you just the same.”
“It’s twin presents ’cause you had a birthday yesterday,” Timmy interrupted, “and it’s red and very fuzzywuzzy.”
“I give up,” Cherry sighed. “Unless it’s a red Teddy bear.”
Tim let her open it then. Nestling in the tissue-lined box, bearing the label of the ship’s little novelty shop, were two lovely angora wool sweaters; one with short sleeves, its twin a cardigan.
Cherry was so pleased she could only stutter her thanks. But as she tucked the scarlet sweaters back in the box, her eyes fell upon the abandoned and neglected Fuzzy-Wuzzy on the floor.
Timmy was saying proudly, “Mummy bought ’em last night. But I didn’t tell anybody what was in that box—not even Henry, or Waidy or Jan or Kirk. I always keep secrets.”
As he finished speaking in his piping voice, he dived under the bedcovers. Quickly Cherry crossed the stateroom and picked up the battered panda. Lifting the lid of the sweater box she buried Fuzzy-Wuzzy under the sweaters and hastily replaced the cover. It was not an instant too soon, for Timmy was emerging from the covers.
With a hurried “Back in a minute, Tim,” Cherry sped to her room. Behind the locked door she went feverishly to work. Quickly she ripped the seam of Fuzzy-Wuzzy and removed most of the wadding. In its place went the red-rubber hot water bottle with its precious contents. Then with needle and thread Fuzzy-Wuzzy’s yawning incision was sewed up again. She hefted the panda critically. Was it heavier than it had been before? It seemed about the same.
Then Cherry took the sweaters out of the gift box and put Fuzzy-Wuzzy in their place. A moment later, when she stepped into the Crane suite everything was quiet. Timmy, still surrounded by his new toys and their wrappings, had fallen asleep. Mrs. Crane had not returned.
Trembling in her haste, Cherry took Fuzzy-Wuzzy out of the box. Then opening the toy drawer she pushed him back among Timmy’s abandoned toys. With a deep sigh of relief she sank quietly into a chair by the bedside of the little boy.
Timmy opened one sleepy eye. Seeing Cherry there, the cardboard gift box in her arms, he was awake and sitting up instantly.
“Cherry,” he piped, “what do you think Henry got for Christmas?”
“What did Henry get?” she asked with more curiosity than she dared show.
Timmy shouted at the top of his lungs: “Yo, ho, ho, a bottle of bay rum! It’s made from bayberry leaves and they grow in the West Indies, Cherry. Also, tomorrow we’re going to be in the West Indies. And Henry’s going to take me ashore and show me where that Peter man’s leg is ’posed to be buried.” He stopped suddenly and then finished with:
“Aren’t you, Henry?”
Cherry jumped and whirled in the direction toward which Timmy was looking. Standing just inside the open French doors, a bland mask on his strong, tanned face, was Henry Landgraf. But to Cherry he might just as well have had a bandanna tied around his head and gold rings dangling from his ears.
“Merry Christmas, Miss Cherry,” he boomed in that deep, rather harsh voice of his. “Was Santa good to you?” he continued, eying the box on Cherry’s lap.
“Very good, thank you,” Cherry said with more emphasis perhaps than was necessary. Something flickered in his bright blue eyes, and Cherry knew that he knew who had substituted the bath salts for the stolen ambergris.
Both hands were in his pockets as he swaggered into the room. For one wild moment Cherry felt like screaming. Would a pistol suddenly emerge from one of those pockets?
“Don’t be a complete fool, Ames,” she scolded herself. “He doesn’t play the game that way. And he would never in this world do anything to frighten Timmy.”
A clenched brown fist came out of one pocket. Then something small and hard dropped into Cherry’s lap beside the sweater box. She looked down and saw a tiny bottle of fabulously expensive, imported perfume.
“A little souvenir of the—er joke we’ve enjoyed together,” he said easily. “I leave the ship at Curaçao tomorrow.”
Before Cherry could utter a word, he had strolled out of the room. From the deck came his mocking farewell: “There’s not much ambergris in that. But enough so you’ll remember me for a while.”
Timmy struggled out of the bedclothes. “Don’t forget tomorrow, Henry,” he piped. But Henry did not answer.
Cherry stared down at the gilt crown stopper on the tiny, amber bottle. He had dropped it in her lap as a token of his respect for the part she had played in their duel of wits. It was the gallant and perhaps mocking gesture of one who could be a good loser when he had to be.
It occurred to Cherry that Henry Landgraf had not sent Jan that bottle of bath salts altogether as a cruel joke. It was also a cryptic but unmistakable message to Cherry herself—telling her he knew she had the ambergris and also knew she would restore it to its rightful owner. What was more, he was counting on Cherry to keep the secret—in order to protect the purser and the steward. There was nerve for you!
Henry, eavesdropping outside the Paulding suite the afternoon before, must have heard Cherry beg Jan not to report the matter to the captain for Ziggy’s and Waidler’s sake. So now he coolly was depending on Cherry’s loyalty to her friends to enable him to get off scot free.
The door into the corridor opened. Mrs. Crane had returned from her breakfast. Cherry arose, bidding goodbye to Timmy and his mother, and started down the corridor. She walked slowly for once, feeling curiously exhausted.
Could it be possible that this still was Christmas morning? So much had happened! And the end was not yet. Tomorrow they would dock at Willemstad. There would be airmail letters awaiting her. Midge had hinted that there would be so many Cherry would need a truck. She could hardly wait to hear the latest news of her family and friends.
She looked forward to a sightseeing and shopping tour with Brownie—a swim at Piscadera Bay—perhaps a visit with Jan to the property she had inherited from her uncle which was to launch the young girl on her chosen career…
“Why so pensive this morning, Cherry?” Kirk Monroe’s voice broke into her thoughts as the young doctor fell in step with her down the corridor.
Startled, Cherry smile
d up at him.
“I’m not, really, Kirk,” she replied, “at least, I don’t think so—but I have lots of things to tell you.”
“Come on, let’s go up to the grill,” Dr. Monroe suggested, taking Cherry’s arm. “We can both use another cup of coffee.”
In the nearly deserted grill Cherry related everything that had happened since the night before.
“Of course, I’m delighted that Jan’s ambergris is safe at last,” she finished, “but, somehow, Kirk, when anyone is such a good loser …”
“Maybe Henry Landgraf is a good loser, Cherry, and maybe he’s a good actor,” Kirk Monroe pointed out grimly. “You know now that the man’s a thief; but you can only hope that he has admitted defeat.” The young doctor stood up abruptly. “We have to think of the other passengers, Cherry. We have no choice now. I’ll have to report this whole thing to the captain.”
CHAPTER XIX
Happy Ending
IT WAS SNOWING THAT WEDNESDAY AFTER NEW YEAR’S when the Julita steamed into New York harbor. The big white flakes seemed to be drifting horizontally instead of falling vertically. To Cherry Ames and Kirk Monroe, standing at the rail waiting to catch a glimpse of the city’s towers through the snowstorm, it did not seem possible that only a few days ago the skies had been blue and the air soft and all of the passengers and crew in their summer whites.
And now Cherry found herself shivering slightly in her chocolate-brown suit and her poinsettia-red hat as she leaned against the icy rail.
“I’m crazy about that perfume you’re wearing,” Kirk was saying. “What is it?”
“It was a present from a pirate,” Cherry replied. “He hoped it would make me remember him.” She smiled up at Kirk. “Oh, I’ll remember him all right, down to the last drop of his farewell present.”
Kirk grinned. “I’m jealous. Timmy’s pirate was in many ways a likable dog, if he’d only had more respect for other people’s property.”
Cherry seemed to be lost in thought for several moments. “I’ll never forget that morning at Curaçao. Timmy and I were at the rail watching the pontoon bridge swing open at Willemstad. Suddenly there was a step behind us. We both turned. It was Henry Landgraf. He was in shirt sleeves and wearing sneakers. I never was as surprised in my life—especially after the captain’s telling us the night before that Henry would be kept in the brig until he could be turned over to the port officer at Curaçao.”
“No brig ever was built that could hold that one,” the doctor replied.
“He didn’t look at me, not once. But when Timmy let out a squeal of delight, he stopped, reached into his pocket, pulled out an old Spanish coin, and handed it to Tim. ‘Something to remember our days on the Spanish Main, Tim,’ he said—”
“A pirate to the end,” murmured Kirk. “That was probably a Spanish piece of eight.”
“A moment later,” continued Cherry, “he had climbed over the rail and dived into the canal. Timmy screamed like a banshee. Everybody rushed to the rail to see Henry swimming for the nearest dock. I doubt whether the Julita ever made a more exciting entrance.”
A few hours later, Cherry and Kirk were sitting in a Village restaurant only a few blocks from No. 9.
Over a bowl of hot soup Cherry said thoughtfully, “I keep thinking about Timmy’s pirate. I know that he picked locks and broke and entered and took something that didn’t belong to him. But I can’t help hoping that—that he got away. Prison would kill something in a man like that. After all, Jan got her inheritance—”
Kirk grinned. “Criminals are going to be in clover when you ladies take over the law courts,” he said.
“Well, it all came out all right, didn’t it? Ziggy and Waidler are still in the captain’s good graces. And wasn’t that Mr. Camelot a funny little fussbudget? How do you suppose a crusty old man like Jan’s uncle could have put such trust in that dry little man?”
Kirk shook his head.
“I missed Jan on the trip back,” Cherry said softly. “I’m going to miss that little Timmy, too. Who knows but I may find myself missing you, too, Kirk, even though you did scare me half to death that first day out.”
Cherry knew that her cheeks matched her perky little red hat. She liked this serious young doctor and hoped that he wouldn’t go out of her life forever when the Julita sailed again on Friday. She said with a trace of shyness, “Maybe you’ll have time while you’re in port to have dinner some evening at the Spencer Club. Bertha Larsen is a wonderful cook.”
Kirk’s gray eyes widened in mock horror. “You couldn’t lure me to dinner with six nurses no matter how good a cook Bertha is.” Then he sobered. “Besides, Cherry, I want you all to myself. I’ve got only two days. Have dinner with me tonight and tomorrow. Please.”
Cherry laughed. “One would think we hadn’t had breakfast, lunch, and dinner together nearly every day for the past twelve days!” Then she added, “Dinner tonight and tomorrow night would be fun, but you must meet the girls. They’d never forgive me. And besides, you’ll like them and they’ll like you.”
“Compromise,” Kirk said quickly. “I’ll brave your den, but you’ll have to go dancing with me both nights. Think of all those evenings at sea when we had to watch the passengers from the sidelines.”
Cherry’s eyes twinkled. “All right. But sometime let’s go for a swim in one of the hotel pools.” She told him then for the first time about her illegal dip on the Julita.
Kirk threw back his head and roared with laughter. “Cherry Ames,” he chuckled, “you’ve got more spunk than any girl I ever knew! I’ve a good mind to give up my ship’s surgeon job just to stay on shore near you. As a matter of fact,” he added seriously, “I’m going to do just that in a month or so. One of the big New York children’s hospitals has offered me a residency. I’ve just about decided to specialize in pediatrics.”
“And you should,” Cherry said with a smile. “The way you handled that imp, Timmy, was something to see.”
He looked as pleased as though she had told him he was the best children’s doctor in the world. “Maybe someday we’ll end up in the same hospital,” he said. “I’d like that. Would you, Cherry?”
Cherry nodded. “I’d like it very much.”
And somehow she knew that although the cruise had come to a happy ending, her friendship with young Dr. Monroe had only just begun.
CHERRY AMES, BOARDING SCHOOL NURSE
TITLES BY HELEN WELLS
Cherry Ames, Student Nurse
Cherry Ames, Senior Nurse
Cherry Ames, Army Nurse
Cherry Ames, Chief Nurse
Cherry Ames, Flight Nurse
Cherry Ames, Veterans’ Nurse
Cherry Ames, Private Duty Nurse
Cherry Ames, Visiting Nurse
Cherry Ames, Cruise Nurse
Cherry Ames, Boarding School Nurse
Cherry Ames, Department Store Nurse
Cherry Ames, Camp Nurse
Cherry Ames, At Hilton Hospital
Cherry Ames, Island Nurse
Cherry Ames, Rural Nurse
Cherry Ames, Staff Nurse
Cherry Ames, Companion Nurse
Cherry Ames, Jungle Nurse
Cherry Ames, The Mystery in the Doctor’s Office
Cherry Ames, Ski Nurse Mystery
CHERRY AMES NURSE STORIES
CHERRY AMES
BOARDING
SCHOOL NURSE
By
HELEN WELLS
Copyright © 1955 by Grosset & Dunlap, Inc.
Copyright © renewed 2007 by Harriet Schulman Forman
Springer Publishing Company, LLC
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of Springer Publishing Company, LLC.
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Acquisitions Editor: Sally J. Barhydt
Series Editor: Harriet S. Forman
Production Editor: Carol Cain
Cover design: Takeout Graphics, Inc.
Composition: Apex Publishing, LLC
07 08 09 10/ 5 4 3 2 1
* * *
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Wells, Helen, 1910-
Cherry Ames, boarding school nurse / by Helen Wells.
p. cm. — (Cherry Ames nurse stories)
Summary: When Cherry goes to work as the nurse at a chateau-turnedboarding
school, she and one of the students discover a formula that,
when constituted to its exact specifications, produces a perfume that
saves the school from bankruptcy.
ISBN-13: 978-0-8261-0413-7 (alk. paper)
ISBN-10: 0-8261-0413-4 (alk. paper)
[1. Nurses—Fiction. 2. Boarding schools—Fiction. 3. Schools—
Fiction. 4. Interpersonal relations—Fiction. 5. Mystery and detective
stories.] I. Title.
PZ7.W4644Cc 2007
[Fic]—dc22 2007019266
* * *
Printed in the United States of America by Bang Printing
Contents
FOREWORD
I
LISETTE
II
“HOUSE OF ROSES
III
SOMETHING IS MISSING