CHAPTER FOURTEEN   MORE WORRIES

Kitty almost ran into Brad as she came from the telephone.

“What’s wrong, Kit?” he asked, seeing the misery in her face.

“Billy’s sick. I must go home at once.”

“I’ll borrow Bud Wilson’s car and take you,” he said.

“Thanks. That will help lots. I have to tell Mrs. Evans I’m going, and get my coat.”

Brad was waiting near the kitchen door when she came out, his friend’s car keys dangling on his finger.

“I really shouldn’t have left him tonight,” Kitty said contritely as she jumped into the car. “Jane told me he was cross all day. He’s always cross before he gets sick.”

Brad wasted no time in driving the five blocks to the house. He went in with Kitty to see if there was anything he could do. Jane had heard them coming and was already at the door to let them in when they crossed the porch.

“How is he?” asked Kitty.

“Reckon he mighty sick, Miss Kit.”

Kitty hurried past her into Billy’s little room. He lay on the bed, his round cheeks red, his mouth open as he struggled for breath. In a moment she was sitting on the bed, bending over him.

“Where do you feel bad, darling?”

His little hand went to his throat. Terrified she thought of diphtheria. “Why didn’t you tell me you felt bad before I went off?” she chided.

He only moaned and tossed his head restlessly.

“I done call yo’ Pah, honey. He’s comin’ right home,” said Jane.

“Thanks, Jane. It’s nice to have someone so dependable.”

“I’ll take a look at that throat,” said Brad, “as soon as I wash my hands.”

“Get him a fresh towel, Jane.”

Kitty turned the bedside lamp on the flushed little face when Brad came back. She had already sent for a spoon to hold his tongue down. After one glance inside that swollen throat Brad said, “Um, badly inflamed. We’ve got to do something about this.”

He and Kitty exchanged anxious glances. They heard steps running up the porch, and a moment later Mr. Carter was with them.

Kitty, met him at the door to whisper, “His throat. Oh, Dad, I’m so afraid of diphtheria!”

Before going near the boy Mr. Carter went to the bathroom to wash up. After a careful inspection of the throat he drew Kitty aside.

“Do you think it is?” she asked.

“Can’t tell. I’m going to take him straight up to the hospital. We’ll soon know there. You get out the car while I bundle him up.”

“I’ll drive you over,” offered Brad. “I have Bud Wilson’s car out there.”

Kitty wrapped Billy in a warm blanket so that only his nose was exposed. They closed all the car windows, and Kitty sat in the back while her father held the child on the front seat beside Brad.

She wondered contritely why this had to happen when she had left her brother practically all day. Maybe if she had been home she would have noticed that he was ill earlier.

Mr. Carter was allowed to stay in the room with Billy while Dr. Fletcher examined him. In the meantime Brad paced the hall with Kitty.

“I’ll never forgive myself for leaving him so much today, if there’s anything I could have done to prevent this,” Kitty said accusingly.

“That’s silly, Kit! No sense in blaming yourself. You know how kids are. They almost always come down sudden like that.”

“Do they?” She glanced hopefully at him through tear-dimmed eyes.

“Of course. I can remember how I used to play till I dropped, and in an hour or so would be burning with fever.”

Billy Moaned and Tossed Restlessly

“But suppose it’s diphtheria? They can die in a few hours of that.”

“Not in these times with all the new treatment. That knocks things out in no time.”

They were at the farther end of the hall when Kitty saw Hazel Dawson go into the room. “Oh, I hope they’ll let Hazel nurse him,” she said. “Then I’ll be sure everything’s being done for him that possibly can be done.”

“They probably will.”

“How long will it take for them to find out what it is?”

“Not long. Chief Carter will see to that.”

At that very moment a white-uniformed interne came out of the room, followed by Mr. Carter. They hurried off toward the laboratory. The door stood slightly ajar when Kitty and Brad came nearer. Kitty saw Hazel inside and motioned to her.

“May I come in now?” she whispered.

“He’s already sleeping. Perhaps you’d better not till we find out what it is.”

“Will it take long?”

“No, not with your father around to see that everything is speeded up.”

“Are you going to nurse him?”

“Yes, I’m glad to say. Your father asked for me.”

“I’m so thankful! Now I’ll know he has the best of care. Oh Hazel, I’ll never forgive myself if—if anything—”

Kitty couldn’t go on, and Hazel put an arm around her waist. Then she turned to Brad to say, “I think you’d better take her home. We’ll see to everything here.”

“I couldn’t possibly go till I know what it is. Nobody can understand how I feel. I was away from him practically all day. Maybe if I’d put him to bed myself I would have touched him and found he had a fever.”

“Don’t be absurd, Kitty,” said Hazel almost severely. “You couldn’t have prevented his picking up some germ. Stop blaming yourself for what can’t be helped.”

“I know. You’re only trying to make me feel better about it,” said Kitty, wiping her tears with a large handkerchief which Brad had thrust into her hands.

“That’s right. Dry your tears. You know men don’t like to see a woman cry,” Hazel reminded her.

Kitty smiled. “Brad’s been awful good—helping us out.”

“Keep it up a little longer, young man,” Hazel directed. “You and Kitty can wait in the sun parlor until they bring back the report. Then I’ll get Mr. Carter to look you up and let you know what the trouble is.”

Kitty was glad to obey these instructions. Brad found some pictorial magazines and they sat on the couch, turning the pages, for there seemed nothing they could say while they waited. Kitty saw little of what was on those printed pages. Her ears were too alert for a familiar step in the hall.

“How easy it is to take all the good things of life for granted until something like this comes along,” she thought. Ambition had been eternally prodding her to conquer new worlds, when within the four walls of her own home there should have been happiness enough to fill their three hearts to overflowing. She tried to tell Brad something of what she was thinking.

“But your desire to help in Canteen work, or any war work, is no reason why you should blame yourself for neglecting Billy,” Brad said as he tried to make her see straight.

“I know—of course not.” She brushed her hand across her eyes and back over her forehead.

“That’s something we’ve all got to do—every man and woman in the country—or there won’t be any homes left for us to be happy in.”

“You’re so sensible. It’s such a comfort to have someone to talk to—just to sit here with me!”

“Gosh! I haven’t done anything!”

Just then Kitty heard the long-expected footsteps in the hall and jumped up. Fortunately they had the sun parlor to themselves. All other visitors had long since gone home. Her father’s face told her at once that the situation was better than they feared.

“A strep infection,” he said in answer to her eager question. “We’ll soon knock that out with the sulfa drug.”

“What a relief! I think I would have died had it been anything worse.”

“That’s bad enough if not caught in time,” her father stated.

“How in the world do you suppose he got it?”

“There’s been a lot of it here at the hospital.”

“But I never bring Billy to the hospital.”

“He could have picked it up almost anywhere.”

Then with an appalling recollection Kitty saw herself and Billy in their boat going past that hospital dump in the marshes. That was where he had got the germ, she was positive. Subconsciously she had known it from the very beginning. That’s why she had felt so stunned by Billy’s sickness. Now that she honestly faced the results of her own carelessness, she felt she couldn’t endure it.

Noting her pale face and the misery in her eyes, Mr. Carter said, “Brad, please take her home for me.”

“I couldn’t leave till I know Billy’s going to be all right, Dad.”

“You can do absolutely nothing here, Kitty,” her father said almost severely. “He’s in most competent hands. Hazel’s going to nurse him, and I plan to stay on for the night. I have my own room I can use any time. I’ll see that everything possible is done. It will be a relief to me to know you’re home in bed.”

Kitty felt she could never sleep again, but said in a resigned tone, “All right, Dad. I’ll go.”

Seeing her so crushed he put his arm around her shoulder and went with her down the hall. “Go home and take a hot bath to calm your nerves, and get right into bed. I’ll phone you at six in the morning.”

That night as Kitty tossed about, sleepless for several hours, she made up her mind that if Billy recovered she would tell her father everything that had happened these last weeks to stir her suspicions. She blamed herself for her pride and conceit in hoping she, alone, could find an answer to those problems that were continually stumping the FBI.

She thought bitterly of what her psychology teacher had once said, “We’re very complicated creatures, and how we sometimes hate to face the truth.” And another time he had talked to their class about how human beings compensate for losses and disappointments. Yes, that was exactly what she was trying to do in making herself a private secret-service agent. She imagined she could do something big enough in uncovering some dastardly plot against her country. This would compensate for her not being able to do more to help the war effort. The fact that Billy had been her stumbling block all along, even though she adored him, made her feel all the more miserable now that his safety was involved.

It was late when her tired body and tortured mind succumbed to weariness and she slept. She slept so heavily then she didn’t even rouse for the anticipated phone call at six o’clock. Jane was in the room when she opened her eyes, then sat up suddenly, ashamed that she had overslept.

“Has Dad phoned?”

Jane’s kindly face told her that he had and that the news was good. “Yas’m, sho did. Billy’s bettah, an’ yo’ Pah say you kin come see him.”

Kitty scarcely had patience to eat her breakfast, which Jane insisted she must have before she left. Even with that delay she was at the hospital in an hour after waking. It was good to see her father smiling a welcome from the foot of the bed, and to see Billy drinking some milk through a tube, while the day nurse held a glass near his pillow.

“Oh darling, you do look better,” she said eagerly.

“I’m all right, Kit. I like it at the hospital.”

“Kit’s going to stay with you while Daddy gets some sleep.” She turned to her father and added, “You must go home and sleep some, Dad.” His hollow eyes betrayed the fact that he had been up all night.

“I’ve had breakfast, but bed will be very welcome. If Billy’s very good today maybe we’ll take him home tomorrow. That new bike will be waiting if he takes his medicine well and gets strong in a hurry.”

“I’ll be a good boy, Dad,” Billy promised.

Kitty spent the day at the hospital, and didn’t go home until Hazel came in on night duty. Her father had gone to his office in the early afternoon, but he, also, was ready to go home as Kitty left. She was very tired, but so relieved that Billy was getting well that nothing else mattered.

As they walked home in the twilight she could still feel her father’s depression. When they had gone a block in silence she slipped her hand through his arm and asked, “What’s wrong, Dad? Billy’s going to be all right, isn’t he?”

“Oh yes. Yes indeed! His throat has cleared up remarkably fast.”

“But you’re still worried about something.”

“I’m afraid I am, Kitten. It’s not a new worry by any means. Things are rather messed up at the hospital in connection with my work.”

“What do you mean, Dad? I’ve felt for a long time that something was wrong.”

“I haven’t wanted to worry you, but if you must know there’s a shortage somewhere—a leak that I can’t locate.”

“Oh!”

“The inspector’s coming next week.” Her father’s tone was bitter. “I wouldn’t want to follow Dawson to Santiago, or somewhere else equally as remote.”