Adventure, November 1915 — page 185: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

- gering to her feet. An Emergency Call “Please, ma’am, quit,” begged the old man, nervously combing his beard clear of ice. “TI ain’t used to this sort o’ thing. If the kid’s sick why don’t ye git a doctor?” “T’ve been alone,’ she muttered, stag- “T couldn’t leave him. Now that you’ve come mebbe you'll stay and watch him while I go for a doctor.” “Hold on,” he roughly detained as she reached for a man’s coat and began pulling iton. ‘‘Go fer a doctor in a night like this?’ And he pointed significantly at the white wall of snow ever dashing against the small window. “Ye wouldn’t last two rods.” “T’ll git a doctor or die,” she fiercely cried. ‘Let go of me. Bentown is only a mile from here. I'll make it somehow.” “Bentown—a mile from here!” gasped the stranger, stepping back and staring at her incredulously. ‘Good Lawd! I’ve rid plumb in a circle. I ‘lowed I was over Johnson County way. Wal, if that wouldn’t skin a maverick! Bentown only a mile away!” “You ain ‘t within twenty miles of the county line,” she wearily assured. Then catching up a shawl and draping it about her head she firmly insisted: “But I can make the town. I could do it if it was a dozen miles—for my boy. Keep him quiet while I’m gone, if you can. And ‘if he cries for his paw mebbe you won’t mind lying a bit and telling him as how his paw will be here soon.” Her emotion mastered her as she said the last, and with a low moaning sound she drew near the cot in the corner by the stove and, with the hungry mother-love burning through her tears, knelt and stared intently at the flushed face of the child. “Ma’am, I’m going fer the doctor,” growled the old man, catching up his wraps. “Stick by the kid. Where does the doctor live? I don’t want to waste any time ask- ing questions once I git there.” ' “Right across from the jail—it’s the only house near there,” eagerly cried the woman. “Oh, if you could only git him to come! If he could only realize it’s a case of life or - death!” “T opine he’ll realize. I’m sure he’ll come,” softly comforted the old man. “What’s the matter with the younker? He’ll want to know what kind of dope to fetch along.” “Diphthery,” she whispered, her voice - ae 183 weak with horror as she pronounced the dread word. “Huh! Jest ye keep yer shirt on,’’ sooth- ed the old man. ‘“Dipthery is a joke with these yere docter persons. Jest keep comfy till I come back. So long, ma’am. And don’t cry no more.” With the points of the compass freshly fixed in his mind and with the rushing wind at his back he managed to keep his tired nag on a measurably straight course. But so thick was the snow he found himself a solitary figure in the long narrow street be- fore a single light pricked through the en- compassing blackness. A few rods more and he vaguely made out a square, squat building which he knew was the county jail. Across the way a yellow spot glowed in the darkness, emanating from the doc- tor’s house. The doctor, a thin, silent man with dart- ing eyes, opened the door begrudgingly. Before he could inquire his caller’s business the old man had stepped inside the hall and was briefly explaining: “Kid sick with diphthery. Git some of yer patent loco-juice and jump yer hoss. Case of life or death.” The doctor stared at him in amazement and backed into his snug little study. Then he remonstrated: “Child sick with diphtheria? It’s impos- sible. I know all the children in Ben——” “Ve don’t know this one,” harshly broke in the old man. “It’s a new brand to ye. I tell ye he’s dying and we’ve got to hustle to save him.” The doctor’s jaws squared. “See here!”’ he angrily demanded. ‘Who are you who come here and tell me what I must do? Where i$ the child you say is ill?” Ignoring the first part of the double query the old man tersely replied: “Don’t know the name. Lives a mile up the main trail on the right. She’s a woman with a sick kid. Reckon that lets ye out. Her husband’s name is Bob and they’ve separated.” “Tt’s the Nevers family,” grumbled the doctor, seating himself in a deep rocker. “Tf the man had stayed with his wife and had cared for his child instead of ——” “Vas, but it seems he didn’t,’”’ obtruded the old man in a menacing voice. ‘What ye waiting fer? Didn’t I say he was on the pint of dying?” “The average layman usually exaggerates / E@ORMICLOOC) (C S oe ino geed “toate lied (EO) 4 aN : , Pee AWE Peay fo