CHAPTER 8 IN SEARCH OF JERRY
“Now what could have become of Jerry?” Penny murmured as she and Salt gazed about the deserted room in amazement. “Surely we’ve made no mistake.”
“He was assigned this room all right,” the photographer declared. “But maybe they changed it later.”
“That’s it,” agreed Penny in relief. “For a minute it gave me a shock seeing that empty bed. I thought perhaps he had taken a bad turn and been removed for emergency treatment.”
The pair sought Miss Brent, a floor supervisor.
“Why, the patient in Room 318 hasn’t been changed elsewhere,” she replied. “At least, not to my knowledge. I’ve been off the floor for the last half hour.”
Inspecting Room 318 to satisfy herself that the bed was empty, Miss Brent questioned several nurses and an interne. No one seemed to know what had become of the patient. There was a whispered conference and then Miss Brent made a call to the superintendent.
“Something has happened to Jerry!” Penny told Salt tensely. “He may have been abducted!”
A nurse came flying up the hall from the locker room.
“Mr. Livingston’s clothes are gone!” she reported.
Light began to dawn on Penny. She recalled the seemingly innocent question Jerry had asked earlier that night as to the location of the clothes locker.
“He’s probably walked out of the hospital!” she exclaimed.
“Impossible!” snapped Miss Brent, though her voice lacked conviction. “Nurses have been on duty here all the time. Mr. Livingston couldn’t have obtained his clothes without being observed.”
“The floor was deserted for about ten minutes,” an interne recalled. “An emergency case came in and everyone was tied up.”
Penny re-entered Jerry’s room. The window remained closed and it was a straight drop of three stories to the yard below. She was satisfied the reporter had not taken that escape route.
A sheet of paper, propped against the mirror of the dresser attracted her eye. As she unfolded it, she saw at once that the handwriting was Jerry’s.
“I’m too healthy a pup to stay in bed,” he had scrawled. “Sorry, but I’m walking out.”
Penny handed the note to Miss Brent who could not hide her annoyance as she read it.
“Nothing like this ever happened before!” she exclaimed. “How could the young man have left this floor and the building without being seen? He’s in no condition to be wandering about the streets.”
“Then Jerry really did need hospitalization?” inquired Penny.
“Certainly. He suffered shock and the doctor was afraid of brain injury. The patient should have been kept under observation for at least twenty-four hours. Wandering off this way is a very bad sign.”
“We’ll get him back here pronto!” Salt promised. “He can’t have gone far.”
In the lobby he and Penny paused to ask the receptionist if she had observed anyone answering Jerry’s description leave the building.
“Why, no,” she replied, only to correct herself. “Wait! A young man in a gray suit left here about twenty minutes ago. I didn’t really notice his face.”
“That must have been Jerry!” cried Penny. “Which way did he go?”
“I’m sorry, I haven’t the slightest idea.”
“Jerry may have gone to his room,” Penny said hopefully. “Let’s call his hotel.”
Using a lobby telephone, they dialed the St. Agnes Hotel Apartments where the reporter lived. The desk clerk reported that Jerry had not been seen that night.
“Oh, where could he have gone?” Penny said as she and Salt left the hospital. “He may be wandering the streets in a dazed condition. Shouldn’t we ask police to try to find him?”
“Guess it’s all we can do,” the photographer agreed. “Jerry sure will be sore at us though.”
A taxi cab pulled up near the hospital steps.
“Taxi?” the driver inquired.
Salt shook his head. “We don’t know where we want to go yet. We’re looking for a friend of ours who left the hospital about twenty minutes ago.”
“A girl?”
“No, a man in a gray suit,” Penny supplied. “He probably wasn’t wearing a hat.”
“Say, he musta been the one that asked me about the fare to the swamp!”
At the pair’s look of intense interest, the cab driver added: “I was waitin’ here for a fare when some ladies came out of the hospital. I pulled up and took ’em aboard. Just then this young feller comes out.
“He didn’t seem to notice I had my cab filled, and says: ‘How much to take me to Caleb Corners?’”
“Caleb Corners?” Penny repeated, having never heard of the place.
“That’s a long ways out, almost to the swamp. I says to him, ‘Sorry, buddy, but I got a fare. If you can wait a few minutes I’ll be right back and pick you up.’”
“What did Jerry say?” Salt asked.
“He said he wanted to get started right away. Reckon he picked up another cab.”
Thanking the driver for the information, Penny and Salt retreated a few steps for a consultation.
“If Jerry started for the swamp at this time of night he must be wacky!” the photographer declared. “That knock on the head must have cracked him up and he doesn’t know what he’s doing!”
“Why would he start for the swamp? Maybe he remembers what I told him about seeing a stranger there today, and in his confusion, has an idea he’ll find Danny Deevers!”
“Jerry can’t have had much of a start, and we know he headed for Caleb Corners! I’ll go after him.”
“We’ll both go,” Penny said quickly. “Come on, let’s get the car.”
Before they could leave the hospital steps, the receptionist came hurrying outside.
“Oh, I’m glad you’re still here!” she said breathlessly, looking at the photographer. “Aren’t you Mr. Sommers?”
“That’s me,” agreed Salt.
“A telephone call for you.”
“Say, maybe it’s Jerry! Wait here, Penny. I’ll be right back.”
Salt was gone perhaps ten minutes. When he returned, his grim expression instantly informed Penny that the call had not been from Jerry.
“It was from my friend in the Motor Vehicle Department,” he reported. “He traced the license number of the car that was in the accident.”
“How did he know you were here, Salt?”
“Telephoned the office, and someone told him to try the hospital.”
“Who owns the car, Salt?”
“A woman by the name of Sarah Jones, Route 3, Crissey Road.
“Crissey Road! Why, that’s out near the swamp, not far from Trapper Joe’s place! I recall seeing the name on a signpost when Louise and I were out there this afternoon.”
“All roads lead to the swamp tonight,” Salt commented. “I’m worried about Jerry. I called the office and he hasn’t shown up there.”
“Then he must have started for Caleb Corners! Salt, we’re wasting time!”
“We sure are,” he agreed. “Let’s go!”
The press car had been parked in a circular area fifty yards from the hospital. Salt and Penny ran to it, and soon were on their way, speeding into the night on a deserted, narrow road.
