Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 18, 1925 — page 162: what you’re looking at

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

312 “My boy Georgie—he’s the oldest of my seven—he went to look while you was put- tin’ on them bannages, an’ he come back an’ told me it’s just awful! They was in a little black shut-in car, an’ it’s lyin’ on its top this minute, twenty feet below the road. Wonder they wasn’t kilt.”” She stood look- ing down at the white unconscious faces, one on the bed, one on a couch drawn up near it. “‘ My, my!” she added. “ An’ him such a pretty man, too, an’ her so little an’ sweet an’ all. Maybe new-married folks, eh, doctor?” ‘“Maybe,”’ answered the doctor. He lifted the slim left hand of his feminine pa- tient. There was a platinum circle on its third finger. ‘‘ Married, anyway,” he con- cluded. ‘‘ How did the accident happen, do you know that? Did they hit another car or something?” “There warn’t no other car around any- where, Georgie says,” declared Georgie’s mother. ‘So they must of just nachelly went over.” All of which, in brief, was communicated to the ear of the gentleman who responded when the doctor called Back Bay 9999 somewhat later. In this wise: “ Hello, Back Bay 9999? Do you know a young woman by the name of Ann Win- throp Hale? Oh, your daughter, is it? Well, I’m sorry to tell you she’s been a lit- tle hurt—not badly, no, not at all serious— automobile accident on the Newburyport Turnpike—I’m Dr., Bryan, been attending them. Bruises and a broken leg, and the young man, her husband, I suppose? Yes, I thought so. Well, he'll be O. K. in a little while. We don’t know yet exactly how it did happen. They must have skid- ded. No, not a collision, apparently, un- less the other car escaped unharmed and made away. Yes. Yes, I agree with you, a hospital would be the best place. You will? Good! Ill stay with them until you get here.” There followed directions as to the exact lacation of the farmhouse and how to reach it. Then Dr. Bryan hung up the receiver and returned to his post at the bedside. “That was the girl’s father,” he told Mom. “ He’ll be out here as soon as he can get here, with an ambulance. He wants to ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. take them back to Boston to a hospital there.”’ The girl’s father arrived just as Larry Minot was struggling back to some sem- blance of lucidity. His pudgy form in the doorway was the first object upon which the eyes of Larry lit, and words of his were the first Larry heard. Astounding words. Preposterous, wholly unbelievable words. “They were just married at ten o’clock this morning,” he was saying. And as he said it he indicated the couch and the bed and their occupants with a sweep of his hand. The occupant of the couch was then seen to raise his head to peer at the occupant of the bed, and to blink rapidly several times. The doctor, noting these signs of returning vigor, moved to stand over him, holding his wrist in professional fingers. -* How are you?” he asked. **1’m insane,” Larry assured him. *“* Oh, no, you’re not!”’ smiled the doctor. “You're all right. Pain anywhere?” ““Pain—” began Larry, and paused. There were pains all over him, and to men- tion any single one of them seemed use- less. He turned to address the pudgy man who now stood eying him curiously. ‘‘ Did I understand you to say that I was mar- ried at ten o’clock this morning, sir?” he asked politely. “ That’s what I said.” * Who—who’d I marry?” The pudgy man glanced with pardonable uneasiness at the doctor. ‘ Why, you mar- ried my daughter Ann, of course!” he pres- ently replied. “ Oh,” said Larry. Like a child memo- rizing a lesson he repeated it over slowly. “T married your daughter Ann at ten o’clock this morning. I married—” he broke off suddenly, and looked again at the girl on the bed near by. “Is this your daughter Ann?” he demanded. Pudgy nodded, in obvious dismay. His lips moved wordlessly. ‘‘ Delirious?” they seemed to query of the doctor. “Ten o’clock this morning,’ mused Larry. ‘Funny! I could swear I was playing golf at Brae Burn at ten o’clock this morning! Er—my wife—she’s ill?” “You had an automobile accident,” the EOPMICL OOO KS iGO