The Desired Woman(Fiscle Part-3 Of 2) by Will N. Harben (e book reader pdf TXT) 📕

Mostyn,  Bending Down,  Felt The Little Hands Clasp His Neck. They Were

Dry And Hot. Dick's Cheeks Were Flushed Red.

"What Ails Him?" Mostyn Cried,  Aghast,  Turning To Hilda,  Who Had

Risen,  Thrown On A Wrapper,  And Stood At The Table,  Where A Bottle And

A Spoon Lay.

"I Think He's Got Er Little Bit Er Fever,  Sir," She Said. "It Is His

Stomach Gone Wrong Ergin. I'm Givin' 'Im His Fever-Mixture Now."

"It Hurts Right Here,  Daddy." Dick Made A Wry Face As He Bravely

Pressed His Hand On The Lower Part Of His Right Side. "Dick Couldn't

Play To-Day."

"How Long Has He Had Fever?" Mostyn Demanded,  Sharply.

"Jes' To-Day,  I Think,  Sir. I Never Noticed It Till Dis Evenin' About

An Hour By Sun. He's Been Complainin' Of His Stomach Fer Mo'n A Week,

But Dat Is 'Cause He Eats--"

"It May Be Something Serious." The Words Shrank Back From Utterance.

"Why Didn't You Send For The Doctor?"

"Huh!" The Nurse Sniffed,  Resentfully. "Yo' All Expect Me Ter Ten' Ter

Everything. I _Did_ Tell His Grandpa,  But He Didn't Even Know What I

Was Talkin' About,  Jabberin' All De Time About Miss Irene Stayin' Off

So Long,  En--En I Don't Know What All--_You_ An' _Yo'_ Doin's 'Long

Wid De Rest."

The Woman Was Approaching With The Bottle And Spoon. "Don't Give Him

Any More Of That Stuff." He Waved It Away. "I'll Send For Dr. Loyd At

Once."

"Oh,  Daddy,  I Don't Want The Doctor!" Dick Began To Whimper And Cling

More Tightly Round His Father's Neck.

"He Won't Hurt You; He Is A Good Man," Mostyn Said,  Tenderly. "He Will

Give You Something To Make You Cool Off,  So You Can Sleep."

Mostyn Left The Room And Groped His Way Down To The Telephone In The

Lower Hall. A New Fear Had Clutched Him,  A Fear So Compelling That All

Else Was Forgotten. A Chill Of Grim,  Accusing Horror Was On Him. His

Brain Was In A Whirl As He Tried To Recall The Desired Number. Did

Providence,  Fate,  Or Whatever The Ruling Force Was,  Intend This As His

Crowning Punishment? Had The Impalpable Hand,  Reaching For Him,

Descended On His Offspring? He Finally Got The Doctor's Servant On The

'Phone,  Then Dr. Loyd Himself,  Who Had Just Arrived In His Automobile.

"Have You Taken His Temperature?" Was The Doctor's First Question.

"No,  We Haven't A Thermometer,  And Do Not Know How To Use One,

Anyway."

"Well,  I'll Be Out Immediately," Was The Brusque Answer. "I Must See

Him To-Night--Don't Exactly Like The Symptoms. I Saw Him In Driving

Past Your Home The Other Day,  And Did Not Quite Like His Looks."

Mostyn Dragged Himself Up The Stairs. Passing Mitchell's Room,  He Half

Paused At The Door. Should He Wake Him And Explain The Situation? He

Decided Against It. The Child's Condition Would Only Loosen The Man's

Pent-Up Wrath In The Presence Of The Physician And Perhaps Delay The

Examination. He Went Back To The Nursery,  And,  Lifting Dick In His

Arms,  He Bore Him Into His Own Room,  Which Was Cooler. He Dampened A

Towel In Ice-Water,  Folded It,  And Laid It On The Flushed Brow.

"That Feels Nice,  Daddy," Dick Smiled,  Grimly,  "But It Hurts Here,"

Putting His Hand Gingerly On His Side.

A Few Minutes Later The Doctor's Car Was Heard On The Drive. Mostyn

Descended To Meet Him. They Shook Hands Formally,  And Mostyn Led Him

Up The Stairs To The Patient. The Doctor Was Past Middle Age,  Iron-

Gray,  Full-Whiskered,  And Stockily Built. He Took The Child's

Temperature,  And Looked Grave As He Glanced At The Thermometer Under

The Drop-Light,  And Washed It In A Glass Of Water.

"One-Hundred And Five!" He Said,  Crisply. "Big Risks Have Been Taken,

Mostyn. I Only Hope My Fears Are Groundless."

"Your Fears?"

But The Doctor Seemed Not To Hear. He Raised The Child's Thin Night-

Shirt And Passed His Fingers Gently Over The Abdomen.

"Tell Me Where That Pain Is,  Dick," He Said,  Softly. "Where Does It

Hurt Most When I Press Down?"

"There! There!" Dick Cried Out In Sudden Agony.

"I See. That Will Do. I Sha'n't Hurt You Again." He Drew The Shirt

Down And Moved Back Toward The Lamp.

"I'm Sure You Will Give Him--Something To Reduce That Fever." Mostyn

Knew That The Remark Was A Mere Tentative Foil Against The Verdict

Stamped Upon The Bearded Face. The Doctor Slowly Wiped The Tiny Tube

And Restored It To Its Case.

"I Must Be Frank," He Said,  In A Low Tone. "My Opinion Is That He Must

Be Operated On At Once--Without Delay--Early In The Morning At The

Very Latest."

"Why--Why--Surely--" Mostyn Began,  But Went No Further. The Objects In

The Room Seemed To Swim About Him. He And The Doctor Were Buoys

Floating Face To Face.

"It Is Appendicitis," Loyd Said. "Of Course,  I'd Call Another Doctor

In Consultation Before Anything Is Done,  But I Am Sure I Am Not

Mistaken."

Mostyn's Soul Stared From A Dead Face With All But Glazed Eyes. He

Nodded Toward The Door Opening Into The Hall And Led The Doctor From

The Room. In The Hall He Put His Hand On Loyd's Shoulder.

"I Am Sure You Know Best," He Gasped. "What Do You Propose?"

"That I Take Him At Once To My Sanitarium In My Car. In Warm Weather

Like This You Won't Have To Wrap Him Much. You'd Better Get Him Ready

Now. I'll Telephone The Nurse To Have A Room Prepared."

"Very Well." Mostyn Was Stalking Back To The Child When The Doctor

Detained Him.

"And His Mother--I Don't See Her About; Is She At Home?"

"No,  She Is Out Of Town. Just Now She Is Away."

"Well,  You Had Better Telegraph Her."

"I--I Don't Exactly Know Where She Is." Mostyn Was Vaguely Thankful

For The Dimness Of The Hall Light.

"You Must Find Her--Locate Her At Once."

"Is It Really So--So Serious As That?"

"I May As Well Be Frank." The Doctor Cleared His Throat. "It Won't Do

Any Good To Mislead You. The Little Fellow Has A Weak Heart,  As I

Explained The Last Time He Was Ill,  And It Seems Worse Now. Then--

Then,  I Am Sorry To Say That I Detect Strong Symptoms Of Peritonitis.

If I Could Have Seen Him A Week Ago--I Presume The Fact Of Your Wife

Being Away,  And You Being Busy At The Bank--"

Mostyn's Head Rocked Like A Stone Balanced On A Pivot. "Yes," He Said.

"I Am Afraid We Were Not Attentive Enough. Will You Be Ready Soon?"

"Yes; Tell Dick It Is For A Ride In My Car. He Won't Mind It. He Is A

Plucky Little Fellow. He Has Fought That Pain For Several Days. We

Would Have Known It Earlier But For That."

Five Minutes Later Mostyn Sat On The Rear Seat Of The Automobile With

His Child In His Arms. The Doctor Sat In Front Beside The Colored

Chauffeur. Mostyn Chatted With Dick About The Ride,  About The "Nice,

Cool Room" He Was To Have At The "Good Doctor's House"; But,  To His

Growing Horror,  Dick Had Lost Interest In All Things. He Lay Passive

And Completely Relaxed,  A Lack-Luster Gleam In His Half-Closed Eyes.

"Am I Speeding Him To His Execution?" Mostyn's Very Dregs Whispered

The Query. "Is This My Last Word With Him?" Seeing The Faces Of The

Doctor And The Chauffeur Directed Ahead,  And Half Ashamed Of His

Tenderness,  He Bent Down And Kissed The Child's Forehead. In Vague

Response Dick Lifted His Little Hand To The Overbrooding Cheek,  But

Immediately Dropped It To His Side.

"Go Slowly Over This Rough Place," The Doctor Ordered; And The Speed

Lessened,  To Be Renewed A Little Farther On,  Where The Asphalt

Pavement Began Again.

Reaching The Sanitarium,  A Spacious White Building In Pleasant,  Shaded

Grounds,  They Alighted. Mostyn,  With His Boy In His Arms,  Stepped Out.

At The Door A Nurse Took Dick Into The House And Bore Him To A Room On

The Floor Above. She Spoke To Him In A Motherly Way. As She Vanished

Up The Stairs Mostyn Saw Dick's Small Limp Hand Hanging Down Her Side.

Was It,  He Asked Himself,  A Farewell Salute?

"You May Sit Here In The Waiting-Room If You Wish,  Or You May Return

Home In My Car," Loyd Suggested. "I Shall Send It At Once For The

Other Doctors. You Are Really Of No Service Here,  And,  Of Course,  I

Can Communicate With You By 'Phone As To Our Decision."

"I'll Be Here,  Or Close About On The Outside," Mostyn Answered. "I

Presume It Will Be Some Time Before The Consultation?"

"It Must Be Within Half An Hour. I Am Not Willing To Wait Longer."

Mostyn Sat Alone In The Sitting-Room. A Clock On The Wall Ticked

Sharply. He Heard The Wheels Of The Automobile Grind On The Pavement

As It Sped Away Under The Electric Lights. He Went Out On The Lawn. He

Felt In His Pocket For A Cigar,  But,  Finding None,  He Forgot It. The

Dew Of The Grass Penetrated To His Feet. It Seemed To Him That He Felt

Dick's Fever Coursing Through His Own Veins. He Was Still Outside Half

An Hour Later,  His Eyes Raised To The Windows Of The Lighted Room

Occupied By His Child,  When The Automobile Returned. Two Doctors Whom

He Knew Got Out And Sauntered Into The House. He Heard Them Laughing

Over The Mistake A So-Called Quack Had Made In The Case Of A Credulous

Patient,  Mostyn Lurked Back In The Shadows--He Would Not Detain Them

By A Useless Greeting. He Followed Them Into The House. The Nurse At

The Foot Of The Stairs Was Beckoning Them To Hasten. Mostyn Was Again

Alone In