Marion Marlowe's Noble Work, or, The Tragedy at the Hospital — page 26: what you’re looking at

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

24 possible! Why, one of my dearest chums is in love with that woman!” “Well, she couldn’t have been much,” said the warden, bluntly. “A ‘drunk and disor- derly’ and not a friend to bury her!” “T’ll bury her myself if this turns out to be true! I'll wire Greenaway to-night,” said the doctor, promptly. “Can’t identify her now, her face is a sight,” said the warden again. “That acid ate clear through to the bone; she must have been deluged with it.” “Nevertheless, I shall send for him,” said the physician slowly, and in a very few min- utes he had sent the message. After he had left the building the warden received a communication. It was from the Chief of Police, giving some further infor- mation about the woman. “Hem! Looks as 1f she did have friends afterall,” he growled crossly, then he, too, wrote a message and had it wired to the city. At ten o’clock the next morning two more> deaths had been reported, and as sometimes happen, a blunder resulted. At eleven o’clock there were two pine cof- fins lying out on the very edge of the upper dock, both bearing tags and stenciled num- bers. At that hour Marion Marlowe was stand- ing with the Superintendent of Nurses, lis- tening to some instructions of a private na- ture. “T would go myself if I had time,” the su- perintendent was saying, “for I would like to see Dr. Miller and tell him about it, but you can be spared and I can’t, Miss Marlowe, and I'll consider it a favor if you will do my er- rand.” . “T am only too glad to be of service to you, madam,” was Marion’s answer, “and I shall enjoy the sail up the river, too, as I have never been farther than Blackwell’s Island.” “Well, Dr. Miller is at the Homeopathic Hospital on Ward's Island,” was the reply, “and you have only to tell him exactly what | have told you.” Marion Marlowe turned away with a re- spectful bow, then something occurred to her and she looked back anxiously. “Oh, by the way, will there be a boat this morning, madam ?”’ -up yonder!” MY QUEEN. | a The superintendent thought a moment— she had almost forgotten that. | “You will have to go up on the ‘de aC boat,’ the fidelity, she said, decidedly “Tell the captain I sent-you and it will be a’ right. That is due at half-past eleven. Yor don’t mind, do you, Miss Marlowe?” Marion did not even shiver at this ghas suggestion. She was fast growing ac mated to these daily horrors, <i “T guess it won’t hurt me,” she said with < smile. “I can stay on deck, where I will nc see the coffins.” When the Fidelity stopped, Marion hur ried aboard. She had seen the two pine boxe a and wished to avoid them. “Bring on those silent passengers !” vawtll the captain, jovially, and as the coffins were tossed aboard Marion gazed out over the water. ’ ‘“Who’ve we got this time?” asked one 0 the convict sailors after they had started “We've all got to make this trip some day boys, and I’m cur’us to know what’ kind o: comp’ny we'll be keepin’ up yender !” He made a motion of his head up the river as he spoke, and Marion sighed as_ she thought of these strong men looking forwar¢ to lying in the pauper graveyard. | “Number 1,197 is Sarah Jenks,” read ¢ other convict, “and 1,198 is Mrs. Mary Ray, both en route via the Fidelity for the trenches 9? As the convict stopped speaking he turne¢ around quickly, for every man on the lowe deck seemed to be staring at something. Right behind him stood Marion Marlowe her cheeks as white as death, while her beaw tiful eyes seemed glazed with horror. “Quick! Let me see that tag!” she whis pered sharply. “Oh, I am almost sure you must be mistaken!” In less than a second there was a guard be side her, but his presence was unnecessé y for not one of the convicts would hav harmed her. ; “It is Mary Ray, all right,” said the guar showing her the tag. “Do you know hel miss? Has somebody blundered ?” a “Somebody has blundered, terribly!” sai¢ Marion, more calmly. “That coffin meat ie be taken to Hart's Island, men, Why, Eomicbooks.com a P<, a]