The Story of a Doctor's Telephone Part 47

This was too much for Mary. "I'll call him," she said hurriedly and went to the bedroom.

With much difficulty she roused him. He threw back the covers, got up and stumbled to the 'phone.

"h.e.l.lo..... Yes..... They didn't? Is she suffering much?.... All right, I'll be down in a little bit."

Mary groaned aloud. She had vowed to protect him though fiery darts be hurled. But the sob in the voice of a frightened young girl was more potent than any fiery dart could have been and had melted her at once.

Slowly but surely the doctor got himself into his clothes.

"I don't think there's any use of my going down there again, but I suppose I'll have it to do." When he returned an hour later, he said, "Just as I thought--they were badly scared over nothing. I shouldn't wonder if they'd rout me out again before morning."

"No, they won't," said Mary to herself, and when her husband was safe in bed again, she walked quietly to the telephone, took down the receiver and _left_ it down. "Extreme cases require extreme measures," she thought as she, too, prepared for her night's rest. But there was a haunting feeling in her mind about the receiver hanging there. Suppose some one who really did need the doctor should call and call in vain.

She would not think of it. She turned over and fell asleep and they both slept till morning and rose refreshed for another day.

A few weeks later circ.u.mstances much like those narrated above arose, and the doctor's wife for the second and last time left the receiver down. About two o'clock there came a tragic pounding at the door and when the doctor went to open it a voice asked, "What's the matter down here?"

"Why?"

"Central's been ringing you to beat the band and couldn't get you awake."

"Strange we didn't hear. What's wanted?" He had recognized the messenger as the night clerk at the hotel not far from his home.

"A man hurt at the railroad--they're afraid he'll bleed to death.

Central called me and asked me to run over here and rouse you."

When the doctor was gone Mary rose tremblingly and hung up the receiver.

She would not tell John what she had done. He would be angry. She had felt that the end justified the means--that he was tired out and half sick and sorely needed a night's unbroken rest--but if the end should be the bleeding to death of this poor man--

She dared not think of it. She went back to bed but not to sleep. She lay wide awake keenly anxious for her husband's return. And when at last he came her lips could hardly frame the question, "How is he, John?"

"Pretty badly hurt, but not fatally."

"Thank heaven!" Mary whispered, and formed a quick resolve which she never broke. This belonged to her husband's life--it must remain a part of it to the end.

CHAPTER XVII.

One lovely morning in April, Mary was called to the telephone.

"I want you to drive to the country with me this morning," said her husband.

"I'll be delighted. I have a little errand down town and I'll come to the office--we can start from there." Accordingly half an hour later she walked into the office and seated herself in a big chair to wait till John was ready. The door opened and a small freckle-faced boy entered.

"Good morning, Governor," said the doctor. The governor grinned.

"What can I do for you today?"

"How much will ye charge to pull a tooth?"

"Well, I'll pull the tooth and if it don't hurt I won't charge anything.

Sit down."

The boy sat down and the doctor got out his forceps. The tooth came hard but he got it. The boy clapped his hand over his mouth but not a sound escaped him.

"There it is," said the doctor, holding out the offending member. "Do you want it?" A boy's tooth is a treasure to be exhibited to all one's friends. He took it and put it securely in his pocket.

"How much do I have to pay?"

"Did it hurt?"

"Nope."

"Nothing at all."

The boy slid from the chair and out of the door, ecstasy overspreading all the freckles.

"That boy has a future," said Mary looking after him with a smile.

"I see they have brought the horse. We must be starting."

Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling.

"They want ye down at Pete Jansen's agin."

"What's the matter there now?"

"O, that youngun's been _drinkin'_ somethin' agin."

"Into the lye this time, too?"

"No, it's coal oil and bluin' this time and I don't know what else."

"I'll be down right away," said the doctor, taking up his hat.

"Get into the buggy and drive down with me, Mary, it's just at the edge of town and then we can drive on into the country."

When they stopped at the house, an unpainted little frame structure, Mary held the horse while her husband went in.

"Where's the boy?" he asked, looking around.

"He's out in the back yard a-playin' now, I guess," his mother replied from the bed.

"Then what in thunder did you send for me for?"

"Why, I was scared for fear it would kill him." The doctor turned to go then paused to ask, "How's the baby?"