The times-news. [volume] (Hendersonville, N.C.) 1927-current, 1934-08-02

the police-they'll get him to a
hospital"
Jane was on the floor beside
him, holding his head. "You or
derga private ambulance" she
/ saids violently, "fp take him to
my apartment and call a doctor
there" Then, as she met Mrs.
Andrews, blank castonishment, she
added: y 'sFife hospitals are such
death-traps-and he's a relation
"a distant cousin"
In the ambulance she held him
again. Once he opened his eyes
and, seeing her, tried to explain,
muttering, drawing his breath
hard "Phone the camp-please-
don't let Amy know Pm so sick
that cold-hung on-and hung
Oh" and then his words became
delirium, without sense or inten-
tioh.
How he had found her she did
not know or care. She had him
now and in the short ambulance
ride she had time to map her
course. How lavishly, how tender
ly she would take care of him.
nurse him back to health and
strength. And he would be so
grateful . they would begin all
over again. He would come bacl:
to her. she built it up into 4
satisfactory drama, herself the
gracious, radiant heroine.
He did not return to conscious
ness while they took him into her
apartment, undressed him and
got him into her own bed, and
she began to be more and more
alarmed about him. 1t was hard
| to find doctors, but at last one
came, a dour man who at first eX-
amined with horror, but also with
authority. "This mans got pneu-
monia, one Of the worst types, /
should say. He's pretty far gone,
too, I'll order oxygen and try to
find you a good nurse, but they're
scarce as sin. You ought to have
two or three"
Get everything you need. The
money doesn't matter" broke in
Jane.
but even then-I don't be-
lieve he's got a chance-not if
it's Number Three. You'd better
notify his superior officers right
away"
His brutal frankness made it
! plain that he knew, by some sixth
sense, that Jane was not How
ards wife, nor belonged to him.
1t stung her pride. "He's a dis
tant relation. | hadn't seen him
for months when he staggercI
into my office this morning in
this condition." she said, de-
fensively.
"Hum-yes?" said the doctor.
"Where's your telephone?' He
ought to be sent to hospital :.
I'll do what | can. -" He got his
! number and went off into string
or orders, rush commands.
As she listened to him her SPAN
gled drama Of rescue and recon
Citation crashed in panic. As the
doctor hung up the phone she
'clutched his arm. "Do you really
mean-that he's going Toto die
that he hasn't chance?"
He looked at her with little
more humanity. "He cannot live
more than three-or four days,
unless by some miracle Pm mis-
taken and it's not Number Three"
"But it's not true-you must
make him livew she cried. 81
won't have it. / tell you, it can't
be, that he should die-like that
"You won't help him by making
a scene" he replied roughly. "Be
quiet. We've got to work"
As she stared, still combative,
the understanding Of what she
had done rushed over her. She
flung up her arms in a frantic
gesture and in one short sentence
unwittingly expressed her COM
plete character.
ooh, my God!.' she cried.
"What nuisance have / wished on
myself"
1t was, Jane soon discovered,
far worse than she could ever
have imagined. The picture of her.
self as a ministering angel fad
ed in the smell of disinfectants,
the dismal paraphernalia of a hos
pital room superimpQsed on
decorative living place, nurses
who used her as an errand girl
and constantly demanded the i'm