Argosy, Vol. 117, No. 2 — page 112: what you’re looking at

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

262 “ But [ ain't strong enough to go ask ’em if they’il have me,” she said, a worried look creeping in her eyes. ‘ [ll go this afternoon and talk to them,” said Hargraves. “ What hospital was it? “ Cortland, out near—”’ The door opened in the small, dark entry, and Charlie came tiptoeing in. “Such damned rot!” he said excitedly as he en- tered the room. ‘Sez yuh oughta have the windows open! Sleep with ’em that way! I sez: ‘ Doc, she’s sick, she’s real sick. Layin’ there vomiting blood fierce, she’s sick!’ But he can’t see no reason. Won’t give me no medicine, but sets there and talks about windahs! Gawd!” He turned an accusing eye on Elsie and asked a question. “Have yuh took yer consumptive cure regular?” “ Kinda, Charlie, but sometimes, I for- get—”’ “Yes, an’ look! Now ain’t this smart? Here yuh get sick on us and carry on high! Old woman, I dunno what I’d do—’’ Charlie stopped speaking suddenly, and Hargraves got up from his stiffened knees and left the room. Hargraves started for the hospital at two that afternoon. He wished his clothes were better looking.- He knew that clothes in- fluenced answers in mest places, and he wanted the right sort of answer. te walked to and fro in front of the big stone building several times, and then squared his shoulders, turned in. The cer- ridors were wide and glitteringly white and they had long rubber strips down the cen- ters, and the air was queer and clean- smelling. He asked a passing nurse where he should go and she directed him to a desk behind which sat an efficient-looking woman garbed in white. A good many people stood around waiting to speak to her. Just now a working man, twisting his greasy hat, stood in front of the desk. “You see, Sunday is not our visiting day just now,” the nurse was saying. The man swallowed hard. His collar was low, and his Adam’s apple, aggressive and covered with stubbly beard, showed all his emotions. ‘“ I know, missus,” he answered, in his pocket. THE ARGOSY. ‘but I gotta work week days an’ I did feel fer to see her. She sets a store by her paw. I thought seein’ as I gotta work week days—being afraid to ask the boss fer time off—I could see her.” The nurse shook her head. ‘“ I’m sorry,” ° she said. * Well,” said the man, and then fumbled ‘Yuh give her this here; she’s partial to ’em.”’ It was an orange, little, and evidently bought at a cheap fruit stand. The nurse took it, and the man turned, his heavy boots clattering as he went off down the hall. Several others approached the desk in turn, and then Hargraves. He told his story, was questioned, and the nurse shook her head. They did not take consumptives nor incurables. Hargraves had not thought of this possibility. “We could pay a little,” he said. “That makes no difference,” the cool- looking person in white informed him. She was afraid he would have a hard time getting a place for his mother—no?—well, whoever it was. There was a_ tubercu- losis hospital, but it was a pay institution, and hard even at that to get admission. It was too bad, and she was sorry. Then she straightened a flying-winged cap and pushed back a lock of hair with a some- what weary gesture and said: ‘“ Next.” . } CHAPTER XIX. SETTLING. ARGRAVES went down the. steps of the hospital slowly. He was filled with disappointment and in no way anxious to reach the flat where Elsie and Charlie waited for his news. He wondered what they would do—what they could do? ' Half-way down on a spot where the steps were level with the terrace for a few feet, he saw a girl sitting on the balustrade. Something in her pose seemed familiar and he looked again. Looking, he saw it to be Mae. ‘“ Hello,” he said stiffly. “ Hello,” she answered, without smiling. He saw that she was very thin and white. “What you doing here?” he asked. icomichook (E@)