The Clio messenger. (Clio, Mich.) 1907-current, 1915-11-19
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: ffJOHN DOE'' :
, By Stephen Allen Reynolds .

shoulders of the man on the cot. Ever
as the skin of the alligator is wrink
led and pitted by nature, so was tn,
skin of this man defaced by som.
unknown agent.
I Yellow and collosfied, most of the
wounds had long since healed. Othe,
cicatrices, ranging in color from 6
dull purple to an angry rose, spoke Of
injuries but recently mended.
"What in the name of Mike is it?'
asked the searcher.
But ! had no answer for the mar
with the empty manila envelope, TO,
the ward surgeon was approaching
and Miss Prendergast was at his
heels.
A busy twenty minutes followed
during which / fetched splints, plas.
ter bandages, and sterile gauze.
"Friends or relatives been mott
fied?" asked the doctor after he hac
placed the broken left arm in splints
plaster-bandaged the fractured ribs
and bound a compress over the
wound in the back.
For reply / held out the blank
history sheet.
Copy the ambulance surgeons re.
port when you get time," the doctor
went on to direct. "Call him Johr
Doe till he's identified. He speaks
some foreign gibberish. couldn't
get anything ineligible out Of him.
/ Over his shoulder watched the
whits-coated man of surgery scriBble
something upon the medicine sheet
Then he whispered some brief in.
structions to the nurse.
/ caught the words: "A small dose
of paraldehyde if he suffers too much.
The next moment Miss Prendergast
and were alone with our charges.
Fitting here and there about the
ward arranging slipping bandages
fetching water and sedatives, attend.
ing TO the hundred-and-one things
which make the night duties of Bell
evue attendant both multifarious and
trying, had little time or opportun-
/ ity that evening to give further
thought to the occupant of Cot II.
But shortly past midnight-long
after the house surgeon had made
his "good night" round-I looked up
from pile of charts l was checking
to find the SCARED John Doe reckoning
to me with his skinny right arm.
Not more than twelve feet distant
from where / was sitting, the head
of Cot IL was plainly visible in the
outer zone of light cast by the shad.
ed bulb upon my table,.
l laid down my pen, and in an in.
slant was at the side of the wounded
man.
what can do for you, John"
asked perfunctorily.
A horny forefinger pointed to lips
dry twisted by pain and thirst.
AS placed the spout of the porce-
lain cup to the parched lips, and the
cool fluid trickled down the throat of
the sufferer, the wild eyes seemed to
soften in expression. The free right
hand patted me on the arm as if its
owner wished to thank me.
His thirst quenched, the wounded
mans hand dropped limp upon the
coverlet. The eyes closed.
With a parting glance of pity at
the scanned, unshaven face, was
about to turn back to my charts,
when displaying strength l could bare
ly credit, the patient clutched me by
the jacket.
The brown eyes opened and stared
into my own. Inert, unable TO more
than twist his head and move his
broken arm, the man with the scars
seemed to be studying me.
what is it, John? asked.
For fully thirty seconds the man
on the cot eyed me. Almost UNI
nerved by this scrutiny from a man
practically on the verge of his grave,
I looked away.
Coming from the far end of the
ward, "hypo" in hand, the night
nurse paused beside me.
whats wrong, Mac?" she asked
Let it be known that I was "Mac''
to her and she was "Miss Julia" to
me-during the long night watches,
"Looks as if this fellow had some
thing on his mind" answered.
Tenderly moving our man with the
utmost care, we adjusted his pillows
and did what we could to make him
comfortable. But yet again, as / was
about to turn back to my record
sheets, the brown hand shot out and
detained me.
And then he spoke.
1t was a musical language, what
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