All-Story Weekly, March 1, 1919 — page 164: what you’re looking at

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

ae STORY WEEKLY. fisherman. Beautiful picture! All full of love, Mame. Tilley’s got it; he’s going to send it to the city. He’ll fix her!” Grouch was repeating. “I chased one of 4 them and she came back double. Hard luck!” Miss Dean turned and walked over to the table. She was very iauch disturbed over something. It was not the photograph; she knew about that. 3 But the telegrams? What were they? She wondered if delirious people ever told the truth. As she stood with her back to him the Grouch twisted his head cautiously and looked at her. He smiled grimly. And then a genuine spasm of pain seized him and he groaned as he dropped back on the pillow. The groan aroused Miss Dean to her sense of duty and she went back to the bed. | “Come! This is your medicine,” she said. “I threw the poison ones away. These are new ones.” He shook his head and laughed again. With sudden resolution, she slipped her arm under his shoulders and raised him. ‘“You’ve simply got to take them,” she commanded. ‘ And I won’t go away until I’m ready. I’m not afraid of you. Here!” She forced the tablets between his lips and the Grouch found himself swallowing, although he made a faint effort at rebellion. “ Be quiet,” she ordered. “ Youre spill- ing the water. Now take a drink.” _ He gulped the contents of the glass. ‘““ Now I’m poisoned,” he said.. ‘‘ Hope you're satisfied, Mame. Great joke, isn’t S | cee Miss Dean lowered him back to the pil- low. As she did so Mame Brundage entered the cabin, carrying a piece Zs ice in a towel. The Grouch spied her and began to gigele. “You’re twins, aren’t you?” he cried. “Two Mames! It isn’t enough to have one poison you; it’s got to be two. One of you got me, but the other one won't.” Mame dropped the ice on the floor and put her hands to her -breast. “What does he mean?” she whispered, in an awed tone. ‘““T just gave him some medicine,” said Miss Dean. “ He’ll be better after a while. His mind isn’t clear.” She stooped and picked up, the ice. “Two Mames! Two Mames!”. the Sd While Mame stood shivering, Miss Dean took a hammer and began splintering the ice. “Get a towel,” she said. Mame roused herself and obeyed, and Miss Dean, after folding the towel to suit — her, began deftly filling it with pieces of ice. Then she walked over to the bed. “Get away!” cried the Grouch. “ Get away, Mame. And you, Mame, over there, come and take yourself away.” Miss Dean paid no attention to his bab- bling, but laid the ice-packed towel across his forehead. For an instant he resisted; then, as the moist chill struck through, he suddenly. became quiet. ‘The ice conquered the Grouch. His head was aching frightfully and the coolness was grateful. After that Miss Dean was in com- mand, In an hour she gave him three more tab- lets, felt his pulse again, and nodded sig- nificantly. Meantime, she kept Mame at the task of cracking ice, and even sent her back to the farmhouse for more. Occasionally the Grouch talked foolish- ness, and once more he said something about Tilley and his telegrams; that was when Mame was making her second trip to the house. Miss Dean bent close to listen, but, much to her dissatisfaction, she could make nothing coherent out of it. Midnight came and the Grouch was actu- ally sleeping. Miss Dean listened to his breathing, laid her hand on his forehead, and tried his pulse for the third time. Then she looked at her watch. ~ ‘Is he better?” Mame whispered. ‘Yes. He'll probably sleep for some time: I’m going back to the cottage. You'll » have to stay with him.” Mame nodded. ‘In two hours, if he’s awake,” said Miss Dean, “ give him two of those tablets. If he’s asleep, don’t disturb him. Keep fresh ice on his head. That’s about all, I think. ‘“‘ Tf he should happen to get worse, which isn’t likely, eee to the cottage and call me.” “Twill,” sa oatiaai Mame. “ Do—do