Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1913-03-21
CHAPTER VII.
The Girl Like Floyd.

Stanton awoke slowly, with con-
seriousness Of physical well-being and
singular restfulness. The shades of
his room were lowered, but the daz-
cling sunshine streamed in around
edges and through cracks, glittering
over a nearby table covered with yell
low kilograms, cards, newspapers, no
lei memoranda of telephone calls re-
ceived-all the familiar evidences of
the morning after a race. And in the
midst of the litter stood an ice-water
pitcher containing a mass of pale
yellow roses. Stanton frowned and
looked about him for bell.
Some one rose from a corner and
approached the bed.
Better, sir?" queried a businesslike
voice; distinctly medical young man
in glasses gazed down at him.
The full situation came clearly to
Stanton.
All right" he gave brief assurance.
What time is it,"
The young man consulted a watch
"Thirty-eight minutes past twelve.
as I figure it. l told Mr.. Floyd that
was all you needed; you were knocked
out by that attack of illness, followed
by a days work that was enough to
exhaust a horse. l saw you race, yes
terday."
Where is Floyd?"
''He stayed here until midnight, I'M
til you had been sleeping like a baby
for five hours. He was nearly all in.
himself, but he wouldn't leave until
he was sure you were all right. One
of the incest fellows l ever met. He
made me promise to stay with you.
l." with an expansive smile, 81 have
got more time than patients, as yet.
Here, all this junk came for you, on
the table. have answered seventeen
telephone calls and sent off twelve
posies in the Watering. All right?''
All right, and much obliged" Stan
ton affirmed, beguiled into smiling
There isn't any one | am in hurry
to see or hear from. | think l will
get up; it's breakfast time"
81 think so. Considering it is your
first meal for thirty-six hours, I'll or
der for you. Although l fancy you
could digest a rubber tire; you look
1t. Oh, Mr.. Floyd left a note"
Stanton rose to his elbow.
Where is it," demanded the mar
who cared to hear from no one.
1t was short note on the hotel sta
tionery, written in wide-open, leg
ible hand that somehow recalled
Floyd's direct gray eyes.
Dear Stanton: The doctor says you
are only tired; and | have got to be
in New York by morning. | would
not leave you if could do as want
ed. hope you will believe that
Cordially,
JESSE FLOYD"
The letter might have been written
by a, girl, for it's reticence and lack OF
the personal element, but Stanton was
well content. 1t rang right He felt
vigorously alive and amazingly hun
cry.
While he was breakfasting, or lunch
ing, and reading the heap of CORE
spondence-which commenced with 6
congratulatory telegram from the Mer
curry Company and concluded with 6
request for his photograph to be useC
as a speedometer advertisement
Stanton decided upon his course. He
would obtain Floyd's address from
Mr.. Green, and pay visit of acknowl
edgmenty to his impromptu nurse
upon reaching New York. That mucl
was required by ordinary courtesy, a
least.
Got any enemies?" inquired tn,
doctor when taking leave.
Are you asking for a list of m,
acquaintances?" Stanton ironically re
sponded
We'll, don't want to play detec
tive, but that was funny kind of in
digestion you had, according to Mr.
Floyd's account. Some of the othe
racers might have wanted to kee,
you out of the way"
mo! Do you think you are talk,n,
Of horse-traders? Once for all, Their,
y is nothing like that done"
Which was very true. But after tn,