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Show Joe's response showed his entire self- , engrossment. "If he dies, I'm a murderer." "He's not going to die," said K. stoutly. At four o'clock in the morning he left the car at the garage and walked around to the little house. lie had had no sleep for forty-five hours; his eyes were sunken in his head ; the skin over his temples looked drawn and white. His clothes were wrinkled ; the s-rf. hat he habitually wore was white with the dust of the road. As he opened the hall door, Christine stirred in the room beyond. She came out fully dressed. "IC, are you sick?" "Rather tired. "Why in the world aren't you in bed?" 'Talmer has just come home in a terrible rage. He says he's been robbed of a thousand dollars." "Where?" Christine shrugged her shoulders. "He doesn't know, or says he doesn't. ?'--& k slowly and met his eyes. It seemed to K. that she looked at him as if she had never really seen him before, and he was right. Readjustments are always difficult. Sidney was trying to reconcile the K. she had known so well with this new IC, no longer obscure, although still shabby, whose height had suddenly become be-come presence, whose quiet was the quiet of infinite power. She was suddenly shy of him, as he stood looking down at her. He saw the gleam of her engagement ring on her linger. It seemed almost defiant. As though she had meant by wearing it to emphasize her belief in her lover. They did not speak beyond their greeting, until he had gone over the record. Then: "We can't talk here. I want to talk to you, IC" He led the way into the corridor. It was very dim. Kar away was the night nurse's desk, with its lamp, its annunciator, annunci-ator, its pile of records. The passage floor, reflected the light on glistening boards. "I have been thinking until I am almost al-most crazy, IC And now I know how it happened. It was Joe.' "The principal thing is, not how it happened, but that he is going to get well, Sidney." She stood looking down, twisting her ring around her finger. "Is Joe in any danger?" "Wo are going to get him away tonight. to-night. He wants to go to Cuba. He'll get off safely, I think." "We are going to get him away! Tou are, 'you mean. You shoulder all our troubles, IC, as if they were your own." "I?" He was genuinely surprised. "Oil, I see. Tou mean but my part in getting Joe off is practically nothing. As a matter of fact, Schwitter has put up the money. My total capital in the world, after paying for the machine today, is seven dollars." "Tou, of course," said she. "Tou find Max and save him don't look like (hat! Tou did. didn't you? And you get Joe away, borrowing money to send .him.'" He looked uncomfortable, almost guilty. '"When I look hack and remember how all these months I've heen talking talk-ing about service, and you said nothing noth-ing at all, and all the time you were living what I preached rm so ashamed, IC" He would not allow that. It distressed dis-tressed him. She saw that, tind tried to smile. "When does Joe go?" "Tonight. I'm to take him across the country , to the railroad. I was wondering won-dering " "Yes?" "I'd better explain first. Then if you are willing to send him a line, I think it would help. He saw a girl in white in the car and thought it was you, of course. Carlotta was taken ill. And Schwitter and and Wilson took her upstairs to a room." "Do you believe that, K.?" "I do. He saw Max coming out and misunderstood. He fired at him then." "He did it for me. I feel Tery guilty, IC, as if it all comes back to me. I'll write to him, of course. Poor Joe!" He watched her go down the hall toward to-ward the night nurse's desk. Then he went back into the quiet room. He stood by the bedside, looking down. Wilson was breathing quietly ; his color was coming up, as he rallied from the shock. In IC's mind now was just one thought to bring him through ' , 4 I 66 XT" ii R , I I " ' - , , " ' :: Br I ' ' Mary Roberts Rinehart 5 i (.(-opyriyhl, by McClure .Publications, Ioc) CHAPTER XXIII Continued. 18 "Do you have to walk as fast as this?" "I said I was in a hurry. Once a week I get off a little early to go to the hospital. The Rosenfeld boy " The monstrous injustice of the thing overcame her. Palmer and she walking walk-ing about, and the boy lying on his hot bed ! She choked. "Well?" "He worries about his mother. If you could give her some money, it would help." "Money ! I paid his board for two months in the hospital." When she did acknowledge this generosity gen-erosity amounting to forty-eight dollars dol-lars his irritation grew. Her silence was an accusation. She was too calm in his presence, too cold. Where it had pleased his pride to think that he had given her up. he found that the shoe was on the other foot. At the entrance to a side street she stopped. "I turn off here." "May I come and see you sometime?" "No, please." "That's nat, is it?" "It is, Palmer." He swung around savagely and left her. The next day he drew over a thousand thou-sand dollars from the bank. A good many of his debts he wanted to pay in cash ; there was no use putting checks through, with incriminating indorsements. in-dorsements. Also, he liked the idea of carrying a roll of money around. The big fellows at the clubs always had a wad and peeled off bills like skin off an onion. He took a couple of drinks to celebrate his approaching immunity from debt. . . . At nine o'clock that night he found Grace. She had moved to a cheap apartment which she shared with two other girls from the store. The others were out. It was his lucky day, surely. His drunkenness was of the nind, mostly. His muscles were well controlled. con-trolled. The lines from ins nose to the "corners of his mouth were slightly accentuated, ac-centuated, his eyes open a trifle wider than usual. That and a slight paleness pale-ness of the nostrils were the only evidences evi-dences of his condition. But Grace knew the signs. "Tou can't come in." "Of course I'm coming in." She retreated before him, her eyes watchful. Men in his condition were npt to be as quick with a blow as with a caress. Put, having gained his point, he was amiable. "Get your things on and come out. We can take in a roof -garden." "I've told you I'm not doing that sort of thing." He was less steady than he had been. The heat of the little flat brought more blood to his head. He wavered as he stood just inside the door. "Tou must go back to your wife." "She doesn't want me. She's in love with a fellow at the house." 'Talmer, hush !" "I only want to take you out for a good time. I've got money. Look here !" Ho drew out a roll of bills and showed it to her. Her eyes opened wide. She had never known him to have much money. "Lois more where that comes from." A new look flashed into her eyes, not cupidity, but purpose. She was instantly cunning. "Aren't you going to give me some of that?" "What for?" "I want it for Johnny Rosenfeld." He thrust it back into his pocket, but his hand retained its grasp of it. "That's it," he complained. "Don't lemme be happy for a miuutei Throw it all up to me !" "Tou give me that for the Rosenfeld hoy. and I'll go out with you." "If I give you all that. I won't have any money to go out with !" But his eyes were wavering. She could see victory. "Take off enough for the evening." But he drew himself up. "It's my lucky day," he said thickly. "Plenty more where this came from. Do anything for you. Give it to the little lit-tle devil. I " He yawned. His head dropped back on his chair; he propped his sagging legs on a stool. She knew him knew that he would sleep almost all night. She would have to make up something to tell the other girls ; but no matter she could attend to that later. She paused, in pinning on her hat, to count the bills. She had never had n thousand dollars in her hands before. CHAPTER XXIV. IC spent all of the evening of that day with Wilson. He was not to go for Joe until eleven o'clock. The injured man's vitality was standing him in good stead. He had asked for Sidney and she was at his bedside. Doctor Ed had f-iie. IC rcand Sidney in the room, noi cutting, cut-ting, hut Ktahding by the window. The sick man-was dozing. One shaded light liumed in a far corner. She turned a day or two before we nre quite sure." She stood looking down at Wilson's quiet figure. "I guess you know I've been crazy about him," she said quietly. "Well, that's all over. He never really cared for me. I played his game and I lost. I've been expelled from the school." Quite suddenly she dropped on her knees beside the bed, and put her cheek close to the sleeping man's hand. When after a moment she rose, she was controlled again, calm, very white. She turned toward the door. But IC could not let her go like that. Her face frightened him. It was too calm, too controlled. He followed her across the room. "What are your plans?" "I haven't any. I'm about through wilh my training, but I've lost my diploma." "I don't like to see you going away like this." She avoided his eyes, I ut his kindly tone did what neither the Head nor the executive committee had done that day. It shook her control. "What does it matter to you? Tou don't owe me anything." "Perhaps not. One way and another I've known you a long time." "Tou never knew anything very good." "I'll tell you where I live, and " "I know where you live." "Will you come to see me there? We may be able to think of something." "What is there to think of? This story will follow me wherever I go ! I've tried twice for a diploma and failed. What's the use?" But in the end he prevailed on her to promise not to leave the city until she had seen him again. It was not until she had gone, a straight figure with haunted eyes, that he reflected whimsically whim-sically that once again he had defeated his own plaus for flight. Sidney brought her letter to Joe back to IC She was flushed with the effort and with a new excitement. "The most remarkable thing has happened. What a day this has been ! Somebody has sent Johnny Rosenfeld a lot of money. The ward nurse wants you to come back." The ward had settled for the night. The well-ordered beds of the daytime were chaotic now, torn apart by tossing toss-ing figures. The night was hot and an electric fan hummed in a far corner. Under its sporadic breezes, as it turned, the ward was trying to sleep. Johnny Rosenfeld was not asleep. An incredible thing had happened to him. A fortune lay under his pillow, lie was sure it was there, for ever since it came his hot hand had clutched it-He it-He was quite sure that somehow or other IC had had a hand in it. When he disclaimed it, the boy was bewildered. bewil-dered. "It'll buy the old lady what she wants for the house, anyhow," he said. "But I hope nobody's took up a collection collec-tion for me. I don't want no charity." "Maybe Mr. Howe sent it." "Tou can bet your last match he didn't." In some unknown way the news had reached the ward that Johnny's friend, Mr. Lc Moyne, was a great surgeon. Johnny had rejected it scornfully. But the story had seized on his imagination. "Say, Mr. Le Moyne." "Tes, Jack." He called him "Jack." The boy liked it. It savored of man to man. After all, he was a man, or almost. Hadn't he driven a car? Didn't he have a state license? "They say that you're a surgeon ; that you operated on Doctor Wilson and saved his life. They say that you're the king pin where you came from." He eyed IC wistfully. "I know it's a lie, but if it's true Don't you think you could do something for me, sir?" When IC did not reply at once, he launched into an explanation. "I've been lying here a good while. I didn't say much because I knew I'd have to take a chance. Either I'd pull through or I wouldn't, and the odds were well, I didn't say much. The old lady's had a lot of trouble. But now, with this under my pillow for her, I've got a right to ask. I'll take a chance, if you will." "It's only a chance, Jack." "I know that. But lie here and watch these soaks off the street. Old, a lot of them, and gettin' well to go out and starve, and Mr. Le Moyne, they can walk, and I can't." K. drew a long breath. lie had started, and now he must 'go on. Faith in himself or no faith, he must go ou. Life, that had loosed its hold on him for a time, had found him again. "I'll go over you carefully tomorrow, Jack. I'll tell you your chances honestly." hon-estly." "I have a thousand dollars. Whatever What-ever you charge " "I'll take it out of my board bill in the new house !" At four o'clock that morning IC got j back from seeing Joe off. The trip j had been without accident, j Over Sidney's letter Joe had shed a shamefaced tear or two. And during ; the night ride, with IC pushing the car to the utmost, he had felt that the hoy, in keeping his hand in his pocket, had kept it on the letter. When the road was smooth and stretched ahead, a gray-white line into the night, he tried to talk a little courage iuto the boy's sick heart. "Tou'll see new people, new life." he said. "In a month from mnv you'll wonder why you ever hung around the Street. I have a feeling that you're going to make good down there." And once, when the tir.'.e for parting was very near "No matter what happens, keep on believing in yourself. I lost my faith in myself once. It was pretty close to ! hell." ! i i "Poor Girl!" He Said. "Poor Christine!" Chris-tine!" I'm glad of it. He seems thoroughly frightened. It may be a lesson." In the dim hall light he realized that her face was strained and set. She looked on the verge of hysteria. "Poor little woman," he said. "I'm sorry, Christine." The tender words broke down the last barrier of her self-control. "Oh, IC ! Take me away. Take me away ! I can't stand it any longer." She held her arms out to him, and because he was very tired and lonely, and because more than anything else in the world just then he needed a woman's arms, he drew her to him and held her close, his cheek to her hair. "Poor girl !" he said. "Poor Christine Chris-tine ! Surely there must be some happiness hap-piness for us somewhere." But the next moment he let her go and stepped back. "I'm sorry." Characteristically he took the blame. "I shouldn't have done that Tou know how it is with me." "Will it always be Sidney?" "I'm afraid it will always be Sidney." CHAPTER XXV. Johnny Rosenfeld was dead. All of IC's skill had not sufficed to save him. The operation had been a marvel, but the boy's long-sapped strength failed at the last. IC, set of face, stayed with him to the end. The boy did not know he was going. He roused from the coma and smiled up at Le Moyne. "I've got a hunch that I can move my right foot," he said. "Look and see." K. lifted the light covering. "You're right, old man. It's moving." "Brake foot, clutch foot," said Johnny, and closed his eyes again. IC had forbidden for-bidden the white screens, that outward symbol of death. Time enough for them later. So the ward had no suspicion, sus-picion, nor had the boy. The ward passed in review. It was Sunday, and from the chapel far below came the faint singing of a hymn. When Johnny spoke again he did not open his eyes. "You're some operator, Mr. Le Moyne. I'll put in a word for you whenever I get a chance." "Yes, put in a word for me," said K. huskily. He felt that Johnny would be a good mediator that whatever he, IC, had done of omission or commission, Johnny's voice before the Tribunal would count. Johnny was close on the edge of his j long sleep by that time, and very comfortable. com-fortable. It was K. Mho, seeing lie would no longer notice, ordered the screens to be set around the bed, IC i who drew the coverings smooth and folded the boy's hands over his breast. The nurse stood by uncertainly. "How very young he is! Was it an accident?" I "It was the result of a man's damnable damn-able folly," said IC grimly. "Somebody always pays." j And so Johnny Rosenfeld paid. j The immediate result of his death was that IC, who had gained some of j his faith in himself on seeing Wilson en the way to recovery, was beset by ! his old doubts. And now came a ques- lion that demanded immediate answer. ; Wilson would be out of commission for several months, probably. He was gaining, but slowly. And he wanted l-I. to lake over his work. (TO EE CONTINUED.) Ml J f V t us i "Plenty More Where This Came From." for Sidney, and then to go away. He might follow Joe to Cuba. There were chances there. He could do sanitation work, or he might try the canal. The Street would go ou working out i its own salvation. He would have to think of something for the Rosenfeids. And he was worried about Christine. But there again, perhaps, it would be better If he went away. Christine's story would have to work itself out. His hands were tied. "I'd better get away from here," he told himself savagely. sav-agely. Someone entered the room. He thought it was Sidney and turned with the light in his eyes that was only for her. It was Carlotta. She was not In uniform. She wore a dark skirt and white waist and her high heels tapped as she crossed the room. She came directly to him. "He Is better, isn't he?" "He is rallying. Of course it will be |