Chapter IV: Part 4

Jean slipped the letter into the pocket of her apron and smiled. She felt stronger, less tired than before. Then impatience spread through her. Would the summer never end, she thought.

She walked briskly down the hall. Sally Hancock met her near Timmy Lester’s small room. She smiled at Jean as if it were an effort to move the muscles in her face.

“Why in the world doesn’t Dr. Barsch send you to bed, too?” Jean asked.

“He did. A couple of hours ago. I couldn’t sleep. I thought I’d pass out if my head hit a pillow, but I was too worried,” Sally said. She nodded towards Timmy’s room. “Listen,” she said. “Someone else couldn’t sleep, either.”

Jean heard low voices coming from Timmy’s room. “Is Ted in there with Timmy?” she asked.

Sally shook her head. “Ted’s got too much sense. He’s dead to the world ... down in Dr. Barsch’s office on the sofa. No, that’s bright boy.”

“Dr. Benson?” Jean asked.

Sally nodded. “No one else can get near the boy. Or haven’t you heard?”

“I’ve been tied up in the contagious ward all week,” Jean admitted.

“Well, any time Timmy wants something, Dr. Benson does it for him. It’s queer. At least _I_ don’t get it. And every free minute Benson has, he spends with the boy. Well, anyhow, it makes them both more agreeable. That little waif! He’s the worst juvenile delinquent _I’ve_ ever seen!” Sally exclaimed.

Jean smiled. “I think I understand,” she said softly. “And I’m sure Timmy isn’t a delinquent.”

Sally shrugged and went off down the hall. Jean tiptoed over to Timmy’s door. She hesitated and then knocked.

Dr. Benson opened the door and smiled at her. Lines of fatigue had drawn his mouth down at the corners, and his forehead was wrinkled into a frown. But his eyes twinkled.

“Hello, there, beautiful,” he said cheerfully. “Come on in.”

Jean smiled at him gratefully. She remembered how many times she had resented his flip manner. But this was one night when she welcomed it. “I was just passing by,” she said. “I wondered if there was anything you two would like.”

“Nothing except a two-inch steak and a quart of milk and maybe a good western movie,” Dr. Benson said.

Jean laughed. “I can get you some milk,” she said. “If you would settle for--”

“Nothing doing!” Dr. Benson cried. “The whole works, or nothing at all!”

Timmy propped himself up on his elbow. “Yeah, ’n’ I’m gettin’ outta here, too,” he said, almost belligerently. “Ain’t I, Doc?”

“That’s just wonderful, Timmy!” Jean cried.

“It’s up to Dr. Loring, old man,” Dr. Benson said. “Not me.”

“Well, he said so,” Timmy said, petulantly. “Maybe even this week.”

Jean smiled at him. “Well, if there’s nothing else you fellows want, I’ll leave you alone.”

Dr. Benson jumped up. “Just a minute, Miss Craig,” he said. “I’ll walk down the hall with you.”

Timmy watched sadly as they left the room. Once outside the room, Jean turned to the young intern.

“Something’s on your mind,” she said.

“Yeah,” Dr. Benson admitted. “I’m really worried about that kid. Where does he go from here? To some nice refined orphanage?” He scowled. “I hate to think of that boy being shoved into an institution. It could ruin a kid like him.”

Jean shrugged her shoulders. “I just don’t know,” she admitted. “But I think your viewpoint about orphanages is a very biased one. You know, there are some very wonderful ones. For instance, I visit one right outside of town on my visiting nurse days. It’s called Mercyville. The children there seem well adjusted and happy. A great many things, including orphanages, have changed since your day!”

Dr. Benson bit his lip. “Maybe,” he said. “But I’m not sold on the idea. I’d take him, myself. But how can a bachelor raise a kid? And on the salary I get here? He’s a _good_ boy, Jean! But he’s never had a break in his life. Gee, by comparison, I was raised royally. And now to get shoved into an orphanage would be too much!”

Jean looked closely at the young doctor. For the first time since she had known him, he was seriously concerned about the future of someone beside himself.

Just then the telephone rang, and Jean raced down the corridor to answer it.

“Miss Craig calling Miss Craig,” Kit’s voice said at the other end. “How’re you doing up there?”

“What is it, Kit?” Jean said, fearing that another patient was coming in.

“I have a delegation to see you ... or someone.”

Jean put down the phone and walked down to the lobby. Tommy and Billy Ellis and Buzzy Hancock were standing by the desk. They all held large baskets.

“Whatever do you want?” Jean demanded of her brother.

“We brought these over,” Tommy said. “Mother and Becky and Mrs. Hancock sent a lot of food over for you guys.”

Jean smiled. “That was nice, Tommy. Thanks for bringing them over.”

“There’s something else,” Tommy said. “We’ve formed a squad.”

“Yeah, a riot squad,” Billy added.

“That’s a riot, son,” Buzzy squelched him.

“What do you mean, a squad?” Jean asked.

“Oh, do errands, if there are any. You know, shipping, or errands at the drugstore or books from the library for your patients. Just anything anyone wants us to do,” Tommy said. “You just have Kit or whoever’s on the switchboard call home when you want something. We’ll get it done.”

Jean felt tears sting her tired eyes.

“We can cart clothes to the laundry,” Billy reminded Tommy. “We got our bikes rigged up to carry big bundles. We could pick up your things in the morning, and then the guys who would drive your trucks could be free to do other things.”

“Oh, golly, boys,” Jean cried. “I’ll tell Dr. Barsch.”

Tommy saw how close Jean was to crying. “Come on, gang,” he said. And the three boys ran down the hospital steps.

Jean fought back the lump in her throat and said to Kit, “Make out a note to Dr. Barsch. He’ll keep them busy.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Kit said, jotting the message down on a scratch pad.

“Somehow I don’t feel so tired any more,” Jean confided. “I think I’ll peek into the contagious ward before I go to bed.”

Kit grinned. “Maybe I should join you. I haven’t had any calls but Tommy’s since I’ve been here. I’ll fall asleep myself, if I don’t get more business.”

Jean made a wry face. “Don’t say that!” she cried. “You’ll put a whammy on us! Just for that, we’ll probably have a half dozen calls before morning!”

But as the night hours passed, Kit had all she could do to keep awake. No outside calls passed through the switchboard. She sat silently for a while staring at the mural which Jean had painted for the clinic, and which now hung above the fireplace in the center of the lobby. She studied the figures of the farmer and his wife and son holding hands and the motto, “Co-operation, Ingenuity, Labor.” She smiled as she remembered Jean painting the sturdy picture with Ted Loring’s words in mind. Resolutely, she shook her head to clear it of the cobwebs of drowsiness. It was a good motto, Kit decided. She felt pleased with herself and with her community.

13. The Doctor’s Dilemma

As suddenly as the virus pneumonia epidemic had broken out, it stopped. The staff couldn’t believe that Kit had had no calls through the long night she sat at the switchboard. Ted Loring, who had stretched out for a cat nap on Dr. Barsch’s sofa, woke to find that he had slept all night. He jumped up guiltily and looked out of the window. The summer sun was already high in the blue sky. Quickly Ted looked at his watch. “Eight-thirty!” he cried. “I must have thought this was a hotel!” He smoothed out his rumpled clothes as best he could and ran a pocket comb through his tousled hair. Then he banged open the door of the office and almost knocked Dr. Barsch down as he started out.

“So, you’ve decided to let me into my office,” the older doctor said.

“I’m sorry, sir. I had no idea it was so late. I left a call....”

Dr. Barsch shook his head in gleeful despair. “Too bad, old man,” he said. “If business falls off any more the way it did last night, you’ll be out of a job!”

“No new patients?” Ted asked incredulously.

“No new patients,” Dr. Barsch replied. “And so if you’ll excuse me, I’ll ready my office for my out-patients’ calls. Office hours in a half an hour, you know.”

Ted let out a war-whoop and hugged the older man.

“Dr. Loring,” Dr. Barsch protested, “I suggest you get yourself some breakfast and a shave.”

“Sorry, sir,” Ted apologized, and laughed. “I had forgotten what it was like to have a full night’s sleep.” He tore down the corridor and headed for the cafeteria.

The dining room was full of chattering nurses and office help when he came in. He immediately spotted Ethel sitting with Eileen and Helen over near the corner. Dashing across the room, he nearly upset the trays of two young office girls who were balancing them precariously on their way to a table.

“Oh, sorry,” he muttered. “Hey, gorgeous! Do I know you? And if not, why not?” he cried as he reached Ethel’s table.

Ethel’s weary face lit up as Ted sat down and reached for a cup of coffee on her tray. “Poor man. It must be amnesia,” she explained to her friends, “I believe we’ve met,” she said to Ted. “I seem to remember, we even were married.”

“Well, what do you know!” Ted said gleefully.

“Now drink your coffee,” Ethel instructed. “My, you look terrible!” she chided him as she inspected him.

Ted gulped down his coffee and snitched a doughnut from Ethel’s plate. “Make you fat,” he said by way of an apology.

Both Eileen and Helen burst out laughing as they looked at Ted’s slender wife.

Between mouthfuls, Ted said, “I mean that! You take a nurse off the floor and put her into a lovely new home with nothing to do, and you have to watch her diet! And that’s what’s going to happen. Starting today!”

“Watching my diet?” Ethel teased.

“No,” Ted said, his mouth full of doughnut. “You get put in your golden palace and you don’t stir out of it from now on!” he swallowed. “Nothing to do from now on.”

Ethel laughed helplessly as she thought of the million chores to be done at home. There were curtains to be hung, floors to be waxed, rugs to be laid.

Jean and Kit came into the dining room and waved to the party at Ethel’s table. They went through the line and selected their breakfast and then joined the cheerful little company.

“It’s simply amazing,” Jean said. “Know what I did? I went for a nap around nine last night, and I just woke up!”

“Me, too,” Ted said.

“Don’t be too optimistic,” Eileen warned. “We may have a flood of patients today.” She looked over to the door. “Oh, oh,” she said. “Here comes glamor boy.”

They all looked around and saw Dr. Benson standing hesitantly in the doorway. Slowly he made his way through the line and then he chose a table by himself. The food on his tray remained untouched as he sat and stared out of the window.

“Ted, invite him over!” Ethel cried impulsively, clutching her husband’s arm.

“Well, I can stand him if the rest of you can,” Eileen said grudgingly.

“No, wait,” Jean cried. “I think he probably wants to be alone. He’s quite troubled. I know, because I talked to him last night.”

Ted sat down again and finished his coffee. “What’s the matter with him, Jeannie?” he asked.

Jean hesitated. “I’m sorry I said anything,” she said finally. “He confided in me, and I don’t think I ought to betray his confidence.”

Ethel and Ted and Helen nodded.

“Who is Dr. Benson?” Kit asked. “And what have you all got against him?”

Eileen explained about the new intern. She merely said, very justly, that there were several things about him that the rest of them didn’t understand.

“For example, his devotion to the little boy upstairs,” Helen said. “Before Timmy came, I didn’t think he could be devoted to anyone but himself.” She laughed a little. “But of all the funny people to be crazy about!”

Ted nodded. “I think I’m beginning to understand,” he said. “Something tells me that Dr. Benson maybe knows first hand what sort of family Timmy comes from.”

Jean blushed furiously. “Please, let’s stop talking about him.” She looked at Eileen, who was gazing at Dr. Benson as if she saw him for the first time.

“You mean, you think they’re related?” Kit asked.

“Oh, no, nothing like that,” Ted explained. “I just have a hunch our new doctor knows a little something about living in the slums.”

Eileen jumped up and ran out of the dining room.

“Well, what’s the matter with her?” Ted demanded.

Ethel laid her hand on Ted’s arm. “I think we’ve discussed it long enough,” she said. “If you’ll excuse me ...” and she got up and walked out of the cafeteria.

Eileen was sitting on a bench in the hall outside of the dining room. Ethel sat down beside her. “Let’s you and me catch up on our sleep,” she said cheerfully.

“And I wouldn’t even give him a date!” Eileen cried. “No wonder he acts so funny. He probably hates us all!”

Ethel put her hand on the young girl’s shoulder. “Never mind, dear,” she said. “Dr. Benson probably understands.”

“But how could he? He must think we’re _awful_ snobs! But we didn’t know! We just thought he was being fresh! And he probably thought that we wouldn’t associate with people who were poor!” She clenched her fists. “Oh, Ethel, and I was worst of all!”

Ethel studied the girl’s intense face. She nodded, but she wisely said nothing about what she was thinking.

“I’m going to wait right here,” Eileen said grimly, “till he’s through with his breakfast, and then I’m going to tell him he can take me out any time he wants to.”

Ethel grinned and patted her arm. “I think you ought to go to bed. You won’t feel so desperate when you’re rested.” She stood up and stretched. “I’m going up to the laboratory for a few minutes to check some of my notes. Then I’ll be upstairs in my old room if business picks up.” She started off and then turned around. “And please don’t tell Ted!”

Eileen waited a few minutes until Dr. Benson came out. She stood up and smiled. He stopped, surprised.

“Good morning, Miss Gordon,” he said. His manner was cool.

“Good morning, Doctor,” Eileen answered. “I know this isn’t a good place to go into things like this, but I’m ... I’m sorry ... well, for a lot of things. And I’d be honored ... if you still want to take me out some evening.”

The doctor stared at her. “Why, thank you very much, Miss Gordon,” he said. “I’m going to be pretty busy for a while.” He hesitated. “You see, I’d sort of like to get Timmy settled in some way, and that will take a little time, I’m afraid. But I appreciate the gesture.”

Eileen felt as if she had been slapped in the face. “Any time,” she said weakly, as she turned and sped down the corridor.

Jean came out of the dining room just as Eileen disappeared. Dr. Benson nodded to her and sat down on the bench.

“I shouldn’t be goofing off,” he said, “but I keep going around in circles about Timmy. Incidentally, what did you tell that gang at breakfast?”

Jean sat down beside him. “Honestly, Doctor, I didn’t say a word. Dr. Loring guessed the truth. I tried to change the subject, but everyone kept asking questions. You see, they really are interested in you.”

Dr. Benson shrugged. “So now they all feel sorry for me. I see.”

“Oh, no!” Jean cried. “That isn’t it at all! Why should a lot of nurses feel sorry for a doctor?”

“Well, that’s beside the point, anyhow,” Dr. Benson said. “I’m really worried about Timmy, and what’s going to become of him. I’ve decided I’ll keep him myself before I’ll turn him over to a home!”

“Let’s go upstairs,” Jean suggested. “I go on duty in a few minutes and I want to call Mother.”

Tommy was waiting in the lobby when Jean and Dr. Benson came up. He grinned and called, “Hi, sis! How’s business?”

“Falling off, thank heaven!” Jean cried. “Dr. Benson, this is my brother, Tommy. Laundry service man!”

They shook hands. “We had quite a load this morning,” Tommy said gleefully. “And boy, am I glad things are going to be slack. Not that we don’t want to help, but we just scheduled a whale of a tough ballgame for later in the summer. We’re going to need all the practice we can get.”

“Baseball?” Dr. Benson asked, his eyes lighting up.

“Yeah, a gang of us has a club. Billy and Buzzy and the rest of the kids at the high school. We play some important games, too. But I never dreamed we could get a game with Mercyville. They’re just awfully good....”

“Mercyville!” Dr. Benson cried. “I thought that was an orphanage!”

Tommy nodded. “It is, sort of. But it’s actually more like Father Flanagan’s Boys’ Town. You’ve heard about Boys’ Town, haven’t you? They’re really keen guys out there. They do everything themselves. But they’re really just being nice to play baseball with us. They’re way out of our class.”

“You mean, this place takes in orphans and boys with no homes? And the boys really like it out there?” Dr. Benson quizzed.

“You’d never know they didn’t have real homes,” Tommy said. “They have a swell time out there.” He sighed. “And can they play ball! I saw them play Fieldston last week. It was a slaughter!”

Dr. Benson looked at Jean. “Why didn’t you explain to me about the place?” he demanded.

She deliberately looked blank. “I don’t know too much about it,” she confessed. “They have their own medical staff, and we simply make routine checks out there to coordinate our health reports to the county.”

“They have everything. Doctors and everything,” Tommy interrupted.

The young intern hesitated. “Imagine God listening to a prayer from an old sinner like me,” he said softly as he walked away.

“What’s the matter with him?” Tommy asked.

“Oh ... nothing. Tell you later,” Jean cried, dashing after the doctor. “And ... thank the boys for us, Tommy. You’ve been swell to help out!”

Dr. Benson waited for her at the foot of the stairs. “Let’s go, gorgeous,” he said. “Lots to be done this morning, and I’m on duty.”

She looked at him. “I thought you were up all night. Don’t you go off duty to get some sleep?”

“Sleep?” he cried. “Who wants to sleep on a day like this! Just look at that sky! Say, this is perfect baseball weather, isn’t it?”

Jean giggled. “I’m right with you, Doctor. Let’s go.”

They entered the contagious ward, and Dr. Benson waited till Jean had recorded the temperatures and pulses of the patients. Then he went over to the bedside of a middle-aged woman. “Let’s hear that back,” he said gently, as he put the stethoscope to his ears.

A pleased grin spread across his face as he listened. “Now, the front,” he said, putting the instrument to the patient’s chest. “Say this sounds good. I can’t hear a thing!”

The woman’s eyes lit up and she smiled at him.

“If we catch this virus right away,” he explained, “we can lick it in no time. Now, if I send you home this week, will you behave yourself? No heavy chores for a while. Lots of rest.”

She nodded happily. He patted her hand and moved on to the next patient.

When the examinations were over, Dr. Benson took the stethoscope from around his neck and ran his hand through his red hair. He sighed happily. “And now to see Dr. Barsch about Mercyville,” he said. “Want to come along?”

Jean smiled and shook her head. “I _want_ to, but I can’t. I’ve lots of work to do this morning.”

As Jean went the rounds of the floor, she eagerly waited for Dr. Benson to come back. She peeked in at Timmy, who was sitting up in bed gazing out of the window. Poor fellow, she thought. All recovered and no place to go! Or so he thinks! She waved to him and went down the hall. As she passed the operating room, she looked in. Sally and Hedda were cleaning it.

“Business here today?” Jean asked.

Sally shook her head. “No, but now that the pneumonia seems to have died down, we’re getting ready for the usual summer business. Operations don’t seem to respect the weather, and we haven’t had time to really clean up the right way for days!” She scrubbed the instrument case furiously.

Jean grinned and went down to the floor desk. She picked up the assignment chart and scanned it. Then, on impulse, she walked down to the nursery and looked at the youngest guests through the large glass window.

“Welcome to the world, people,” she cried happily.

Two red fists waved at her.

“Oh, you babies!” she cried. “I’d like to take you all home with me!”

“You would, would you?” Helen said, coming out of the nursery. “Well, I don’t blame you. You certainly sound happy!”

“I am!” Jean cried. “It’s contagious. I’ve just been with Dr. Benson.”

“Dr. Benson? Happy? At breakfast his chin was down to his knees!”

“Something’s happened,” Jean replied mysteriously. “At least it _might_ happen.”

Before she could say more, Dr. Benson appeared, waving his hand.

“We’re in!” he cried. “Timmy can go out there any time.”

Jean turned around. “Just like that?”

The doctor paused to catch his breath. “I suggested to Dr. Barsch that we investigate the place. So right off he called Boston and some people in public aid that he knows. They gave Mercyville an A-number one rating. So then we called out there. And Mr. Henderson, who runs the place, simply said, ‘Bring him out. We’ll be glad to take him.’ Just like that!”

“Just like that!” Jean gasped.

“Well, their big problem is overcrowding. They can take only so many boys, Mr. Henderson said. But, you see, last month a lot of boys graduated from high school and will be going out to work or to college. So they have some room right now.”

Jean clasped her hands. “Now to tell Timmy. I hope he’ll want to go.”

Dr. Benson smacked his hands together. “Just leave Timmy to me.”

“When are you going to take him out?”

“Soon as I’m off duty,” he replied. “No use in hanging around here any longer. The boy’s perfectly well, you know.”

He whistled as he went down the hall towards Timmy’s room.

“We certainly have done that man an injustice,” Helen said, watching him go. “I feel like a heel, but I don’t know how to tell him so.”

Jean shook her head. “We don’t have to. I think he’ll get to like us better from now on.”

14. Mercyville

“Now, the first thing we have to do, Tim,” Dr. Benson said to the boy as they picked up the odds and ends Timmy had collected during his stay, “is to get you an outfit.”

Large blue eyes stared up at him. “A what?” he asked.

“Clothes! You know, a suit, underwear ... the works!”

Timmy whistled. “You mean, jest fer me?”

Dr. Benson smiled. “Well, it won’t be so much. I’m only an intern, so we can’t afford a regular trousseau--”

“Whazzat?” Timmy demanded.

The doctor laughed. “Never mind. We have everything now?”

“Yeah, but Doc, this place you’re takin’ me. What gives out there?”

“Oh, it’s just a place where a lot of boys live together. They run the whole town, themselves, and they raise their own food--have their own cows--”

“Cows? What fer?”

Dr. Benson stared at the boy. “For milk, of course! And they all live and play and go to school together....”

Timmy recoiled at the mention of school. “That’s not fer me,” he said. “I _hate_ school!”

Dr. Benson tousled his hair. “Well, never mind about school now. It’s vacation time. You’ll have a lot of baseball and swimming and ...” he stopped as he saw the blank look on the boy’s face. He felt a lump in his throat as he realized that Timmy had never seen a game of baseball or been near a place to swim. “You’ll like it,” he added. “Come on, now. Let’s go.”

Eileen Gordon was in the lobby when they came down. Dr. Barsch had made a final examination of the boy and had signed his release, and she had the papers waiting for them.

She almost laughed when she saw Timmy wearing a rudely cut-down suit which had apparently belonged to Dr. Benson. “You aren’t going anywhere like that,” she said to the doctor, looking at the boy.

“Nope, we’re going shopping before we go out to Mercyville.”

“The two of you? Let me come along. I’m a good shopper!” she pleaded.

Dr. Benson turned to Timmy. “Okay?”

Timmy shrugged his shoulders.

“We could use a woman’s help,” Dr. Benson said. “Sure, come along.”

Eileen grinned. “Give me five minutes to get into my street clothes.” And she ran towards the stairs.

Timmy fidgeted. “Dames! Why do they always wanta butt in?”

Just then, Tommy came in the front door and waved to them. “I’m glad I didn’t miss you,” he cried. “I want to tag along, if I can. If I can get a ride out to Mercyville, I can talk to their baseball captain about the game.”

“Sure thing, Tom,” Dr. Benson said.

When Eileen was ready, the four started for the center of town. Tommy chose the stores where they would shop, and Eileen did the shopping. Dr. Benson secretly breathed a sigh of relief that she had decided to come with them. Impulsively he turned to her as the clerk was wrapping the last package.

“Why don’t you ride out with us? It’s a wonderful day for a drive.”

She looked at him gratefully. “Thanks. I’d love to. I’ll call the hospital first.”

The drive through the Connecticut countryside was as beautiful as promised. Timmy stared out of the car window as they wound around the gentle curves taking them to Mercyville. For the first time in his life he was seeing the abundant beauty of the country. Or perhaps it was the first time he was able to notice it, because he was well fed and comfortably dressed.

They passed a herd of cattle grazing on the side of a small slope. “So them’s cows,” he said softly. “And they make milk. Well, well.”

“Jeepers!” Tommy exclaimed under his breath. “Yep, Timmy, they make milk, all right. And you haven’t lived till you’ve tasted _fresh_ milk! You’ll have your chance!”

Mercyville consisted of five acres of land nestled between two hills. A stream bounded the land on the third side, and there were patches of woods on the other side. Small cottages dotted the acres and in the center was a building about the size of a large house.

“That must be the administration building,” Dr. Benson said as he turned up the drive to the house. “Hey, look, Tom. There’s a ball diamond. And I’ll bet those are your opponents out there practicing.”

Tommy groaned as he watched the boys playing ball. “Look at that guy pitch!” he moaned. “And that fellow batting! He’ll _murder_ my pitching!”

“Okay,” Dr. Benson said, “everyone out.”

They found Mr. Henderson in a small office at the front of the building. He held out his hand to Dr. Benson as they entered his office.

“I’m very glad to see you, Doctor,” he said, clasping the intern’s hand.

“Thank you, sir,” Dr. Benson said. “This is Miss Gordon, our Supervisor of Nurses, and these are Tommy Craig and Timmy Lester. Timmy would like to be a member of your family. And Tommy is here to see your ball team captain. Seems they have a game together this season.”

Mr. Henderson nodded. “Oh, yes. Elmhurst. Miss Gordon, it’s a pleasure. And Timmy, I hope you’re going to like Mercyville.”

“Yeah,” Timmy said. “It’s okay, I guess.”

Mr. Henderson smiled and patted the boy’s arm. “Frankly, I don’t have so much to do with our boys. I’d better call in our president and let you talk to him.”

He picked up the phone and asked for Bert Cramer. Smiling, he turned back to his guests. “Please sit down, won’t you? Bert’s out on the diamond. He’s also our baseball manager, you know. He’ll be right in.”

In a few minutes, a slender boy with brown hair and soft brown eyes knocked at Mr. Henderson’s open door.

“You sent for me, Mr. Henderson?” he asked in a low, melodious voice.

“Come in, Bert,” Mr. Henderson said. “We have a new member of our family.” He smiled. “Bert, this is Dr. Benson from the Gallup Clinic in Elmhurst.”

“How do you do, sir?” Bert said, shaking hands.

After Mr. Henderson had introduced them all, Bert grinned at Timmy and said, “Gee, I’m sorry I’m not going to be around next year. But I finish up here this term, you know. We have a swell guy for president next year, though. I know you’ll like him.”

Dr. Benson nodded. “Tell me, Bert, what plans you have. We’re kind of interested in what happens to you boys when you finish school here.”

Mr. Henderson put his hand fondly on the young man’s shoulder. “We have great hopes for Bert,” he said.

“Play baseball, huh?” Tommy asked, eyeing him with doubt. “Well, anyhow, we can be friends _before_ our big game.”

Bert laughed. “Well, as a matter of fact, I don’t play any more. I used to play centerfield, and I do love the game. But I also play the violin. I was afraid to take chances on injuring my hands, so I gave up baseball. But I still manage the team.”

“Well, what do you know?” Tommy said. “You play the violin?”

“What a sissy!” Timmy exclaimed.

Bert chuckled. “That’s what a lot of people thought once. A lot of the guys made fun of me till I met them in the boxing ring.”

Mr. Henderson chuckled at the memory. “Bert’s not much of a sissy, Timmy. You’ll have to take his word for it, though. I doubt if he’d challenge you. You’ll have to box fellows your own size.” He shrugged his shoulders. “But tell them about your plans, Bert.”

“Oh, yes. Well, Timmy’s coming to Mercyville may be a sort of good luck omen for me. In a little while I’m going into Elmhurst to try out for a scholarship to Timothy College. Get it? That’s Timmy’s name. You probably never heard of the school....”

“Timothy College!” Tommy cried. “My sister, Doris, is trying out for a scholarship there, too! She plays the piano.”

“That _is_ a coincidence!” Mr. Henderson said. He stood up. “Bert, why don’t you take Timmy and his friend down to meet George? That’s George Michael, our president-elect. Dr. Benson and Miss Gordon and I can clear up the details while you’re gone.”

Bert nodded, and led the small party out of the office.

Mr. Henderson’s face sobered as the young people left. “Children left alone in the world constitute the worst tragedy I know of,” he sighed. “I’m very glad we have room for Timmy. Every time I have to turn away a boy, my heart breaks again.”

“That’s why I’m so glad you could take him, sir,” Dr. Benson said. “You see, Timmy hasn’t had any sort of break from life yet at all. We checked with the authorities when we finally found out who he was, and his background was ... terrible! His father had been out of work for months. There was a housefull of children, and they all lived in one room. The rest of the family was killed in a tenement fire. Timmy was out on the streets with a gang of hoodlums at the time.”

Mr. Henderson stroked his iron gray hair. “That’s as wretched a tale as I’ve heard yet, and I’ve heard some pretty bad ones.”

Dr. Benson cleared his throat nervously. “I think you may have some problems with Timmy. He doesn’t even seem to be aware that his family is gone. He knows, of course, but he’s all wrapped up in a hard shell which comes from living a life like that. And when he softens up and gets human again, he’s going to feel the tragedy.”

Mr. Henderson nodded. “I understand.”

“I wonder,” Dr. Benson blurted out. “I don’t mean to doubt your word, but I went through it, myself. We lived in a place like Timmy’s old home. My parents died when I was in medical school, and it took months before I even realized what had happened. Even though I had been so much luckier than the other boys I knew, I was still suffering what they call slum-shock years after I had left home.”

Mr. Henderson smiled gently. “Yes, I do know, Dr. Benson. I was a slum child, myself. I think that’s why I started this home. I can never forget the horrors I saw as a child, and I’d give anything in the world to protect other children from them.”

Eileen shook her head. “Slum life _can_ turn out some pretty wonderful people,” she said softly. “People determined to help others in the same fix.”

Mr. Henderson smiled at her. “I guess that’s about the size of it.” He stood up and went over to a filing cabinet. “I have here all the data about Mercyville. Our medical and health records and our financial status. The former is very good. The latter is never good, of course. But we manage to make ends meet.” He handed Eileen and Dr. Benson copies of the report. “You can look it over and take a copy back to Dr. Barsch. He’ll probably want it for his records. As you see, we are an accredited grammar and high school. And here,” he pointed to a page, “is a list of our alumni. That’s our gold star page, so to speak. Some of our boys are brilliant and have fine careers. Others are not so ... so brainy, of course. But they also become useful, productive citizens.”

Just then the boys returned. George Michaels, the president-elect, was with them. He was a tall, slim Negro boy. He and Tommy were so deeply involved in a discussion about baseball that they were almost oblivious to everyone else.

“George,” said Mr. Henderson, “I want you to meet Dr. Benson and Miss Gordon from the Gallup Clinic in Elmhurst.”

George looked up, startled. Eileen and Dr. Benson both laughed as the new president came back down to earth.

“Sorry, sir,” George said, shaking Dr. Benson’s hand. “Tom and I were so deep in the technicalities of the game, I forgot where I was.”

Dr. Benson grinned. “I’m crazy about the game, myself. I can understand your being so absorbed.”

Mr. Henderson looked at George fondly. “George is our star athlete. He plays football, baseball and basketball.”

“A triple threat man, eh?” Dr. Benson asked.

“A real threat man,” Mr. Henderson said solemnly. “You asked Bert Cramer a while ago what he was going to do when he left Mercyville. I think you might be interested in George’s plans, too.”

“We certainly would,” Eileen said.

“Tell them, George,” Mr. Henderson said proudly.

George hesitated. “I sort of hate to talk about it till I’ve figured out exactly how I’m going to accomplish it. But I love sports. As a tiny child, I didn’t have much time to play games. There wasn’t any place for me, either. In our neighborhood back home, they didn’t like me to join in their organized games, because I am a Negro. I guess they still discriminate. That’s why I want to open a youth center, some day, for kids of all races and creeds.”

Dr. Benson and Eileen nodded soberly.

“That’s a fine objective, George,” Dr. Benson said quietly.

George turned to look at Timmy. “Mr. Henderson, did you know Timmy here has never played baseball? And from the way I saw him run across the yard, I think he’ll make a wonderful base-stealer.”

“You bet he will,” said Dr. Benson as he watched Timmy’s face to see if he could get an inkling as to how Timmy was impressed by what he had seen.

By this time it was obvious that Tommy and Bert Cramer were fast friends. Bert shook his head sadly as Dr. Benson nodded to Eileen and Tommy.

“I sure wish you could stay to supper,” he said. “I could drive you back, Tommy, and I’d kind of like the fellows to meet you.”

Tommy hesitated. “Gee, I’d like to,” he answered. “If I could call the folks, and if Dr. Benson didn’t mind.”

“Why should I mind, Tom?” Dr. Benson asked. “Go ahead and call home, if you like.” A few minutes later it was all settled and Timmy walked out to the car with them. On the way, they sat down on a bench for a few minutes. Dr. Benson reached down and picked a blade of grass.

“You know, Timmy, I don’t want to give you a lecture,” he said. “But I want you to know how impressed I am with the democratic spirit of this place.”

“Whazzat?” Timmy demanded.

Dr. Benson chuckled. “Democracy is being well in spirit. Just as healthy is being well in body, I guess you could say. You haven’t had a very good start. When people are poor and forced into slums, they get sick and scared, and sometimes all sort of crazy. Their bodies are diseased and twisted because they don’t have enough to eat, or warm clothes or fresh air. And sometimes their minds are diseased and twisted with this fear and craziness. So pretty soon they turn on each other and start to hate each other. The first thing they do is hate people who look different. Or have different sounding names. Out here you’re going to have the chance to get over any part of that sickness you might have. You’re going to have fresh air and good food and lots of time to play and grow and learn. You’re going to learn the best lesson anyone can ever learn! That everyone ... I don’t care if they’re white or brown or yellow or even purple or green--I don’t care how they choose to worship God ... is a human being and has the same capacity for dignity as anyone else. I’m a doctor, Timmy, and I deal in truth and facts. These things are as exact truths as two plus two equalling four.”

Timmy squirmed. “Aw, sure, Doc.” He picked up a blade of grass and stuck it between his teeth. “I never thought about it before. But George ... he’s right. Kids back home do pick on kids that’re different.”

Dr. Benson nodded. “Mr. Henderson called him a real threat man. George is going to be a real threat to intolerance and bigotry when he leaves Mercyville. Those are just fancy names for being plain sick.”

Timmy grinned. “Hey, Doc! How about comin’ out to see me?”

Dr. Benson tousled his hair. “Try to keep me away, Timmy. You and I are going to stick together. We’re pals, remember?”

Eileen and the doctor waved to him as they drove off. They watched Timmy head back to where Mr. Henderson and George Michael were waiting for him. Dr. Benson hummed in a satisfied way.

They drove through the lengthening shadows of the late afternoon in silence. Finally Dr. Benson heard the sound of muffled sobs next to him and he turned to look at Eileen. He slowed the car.

“Good heavens, baby, what’s the matter?”

Eileen dabbed at her nose with a tiny handkerchief. “That speech! What you told Timmy, I mean. You’re some guy, doctor. And I feel as if I should get out of your car and walk home!”

Dr. Benson grinned. “Oh, you’re not so bad,” he teased. “As a matter of fact, you’re kind of cute. You sort of dress up the old jalopy.”

Eileen grinned in spite of herself. “Wasn’t I the Lady Bountiful this morning, though, when I said I would condescend to date you some time? Doctor, if you ever look at me again, you have a screw loose. And I’ll be the happiest girl in the world!”

Dr. Benson stopped the car. “It just happens that I _have_ a screw loose. Here. Give me that hanky. No, I’ll use mine.” He pulled out his handkerchief. “These things women carry aren’t worth a darn.” He wiped her cheeks tenderly. “Oh, Eileen, you darling little idiot! Don’t you know that if you had looked at me when I first came the way you’re looking at me now, I would have served my internship standing on my hands, if you’d wanted me to? But when I got the brush-off from the cool, crisp, efficient Miss Gordon, I decided to play things differently. I guess I’ve been as big a dope as anyone.”

15. Graduation!

July was nearly over. And although there weren’t any summer patients at the clinic, Jean and her classmates were very busy. Graduation was scheduled for the end of the month. But before Jean, Sally, Hedda, Ingeborg and Lucy could wear their registered nurses’ caps, they had to take their final exams.

They all studied every free minute they had. And Jean was frankly worried about her approaching exams. Although she had mastered most of her studies with ease, she was still baffled by the nervous system and the essentials of psychology which were required knowledge for the graduate nurses.

Miserably she flipped through her psychology book one afternoon as she sat alone in the lobby of the clinic. It was her day off, but she refused to take time off to go home till she had mastered her lesson.

Gerald Benson found her huddled over her book and sat down beside her.

“Still grinding away?” he asked.

She nodded. “I can’t understand why I can’t get this through my head,” she said desperately.

Gerald picked up her book. “Maybe I can help you,” he offered.

“Oh, go away,” she groaned with pretended despair. “Suddenly everything’s changed. Eileen ... my good friend, Eileen ... has become a witch who haunts me at night. She’s going to be on the examining board. And so are all the doctors! I get all nervous when I think that Ted or Dr. Daley or especially wonderful Dr. Barsch can up and flunk me without a second thought if I don’t pass my exam.”

Gerald laughed. “Then I’m your friend of the hour. _I_ won’t be on the board. I’m just an intern. Now, let’s see. What’s troubling you so?” He turned to the front of the book. Then he closed it. “Let’s start at the beginning. In the first place, did you ever run a switchboard?”

Jean nodded. “One summer I worked as a receptionist in an office.”

“Then there’s nothing to it. You’re just trying to master the switchboard of the human body. Keep that in mind. Sensory nerves to the brain or spinal column, depending upon whether the reflex called for is automatic or deliberate. If it is an automatic response, such as pulling your hand away when you touch a hot stove, the message goes no higher than the spinal column. Otherwise, it goes to the brain. Your brain tells you to turn up the thermostat because you’re cold in your house. You had to learn that heating a house will warm you. But a tiny baby will pull his hand away from a hot stove.”

Jean nodded.

“See how simple it is? The rest of it is just memorizing the various parts. But to excite your interest, I’m going to tell you a story. I think when you hear it, you’re going to _want_ to learn the various parts. And anything you really want to learn, you will learn.”

Jean giggled. “You’re quite a philosopher, Gerald,” she said.

“I would rather like to go on into psychiatry if I can,” Gerald said. “That’s why you’re going to find me so helpful today. This is my stuff. But to get back to the story. You’ve undoubtedly had a toothache at one time or another, haven’t you?”

Jean nodded. “I should say I have. I remember a particularly bad one once, when it seemed as if all my teeth hurt.”

“That often happens,” Dr. Benson continued. “Sometimes, you may remember, instead of the infected tooth in the upper jaw, let us say, being the one that hurts, it is the tooth directly below it in the lower jaw that seems to be causing the pain. Why do you suppose that is?”

Jean shook her head. “I can’t imagine.”

Gerald went on. “That’s the fascinating part. What actually happens is this. The area around the infected tooth hurts. It sends a message to the brain, saying ‘Ouch.’ But the brain says, ‘Hold on a minute. You must be confused. You can’t possibly hurt. It must be the other party on your line. Now, let’s see. The other party on your line is the second molar in the lower jaw. That’s the tooth which hurts.’ And, by heaven, that’s what hurts, in spite of the fact that the tooth in the lower jaw is perfectly sound.”

Jean grinned. “Really? That’s fascinating!” she cried.

Gerald stood up. “Now, go home. You can’t study here. You find out why these fascinating things happen. I’ll drill you every day till exams come. We’ll lick ’em, Witch-Gordon and the whole pack of ’em!”

Jean giggled. “Eileen should hear you say that,” she teased.

He laughed. “No girl of mine is going around flunking industrious young students, either. You might remember that!”

Gerald was true to his word. Every day until exam day he drilled Jean in the intricacies of the nervous system. And when she went in to face the examining board, she felt more confident than she ever believed she would feel.

Dr. Barsch headed the board. Dr. Daley, Dr. Jenkins, Ted and Eileen asked the questions, but Jean was sure enough of herself to enjoy the ordeal. As the exam went on, the doctors and Eileen became more relaxed. Jean was a favorite among the staff members, and they were as anxious as she that she do well.

Finally with beaming faces, the board came to the end of the questions. Dr. Barsch looked around at the staff.

“I guess there’s no question in anyone’s mind, is there?”

They all shook their heads.

Dr. Barsch stood up. “Then I want to be the first to congratulate you, Miss Craig. Your work here at the clinic has been more than satisfactory. It will be a pleasure to have you take part in our ‘capping’ exercises tomorrow night.”

The following night, Jean and her whole class gathered together outside of the small auditorium of the clinic. To the immense relief of all, they all had passed their final exams and were ready to be capped. Their families had already gathered in the auditorium, and Dr. Gallup was on the platform together with Dr. Barsch and the rest of the staff.

The girls were all dressed in fresh, immaculate white uniforms. Finally they received the signal and marched into the auditorium together. They all sat down in the first row.

Dr. Gallup and the staff rose as the girls took their seats. Dr Barsch stepped to the front of the stage.

“This is truly a memorable occasion for the Gallup Memorial Clinic,” he said. “This is our first graduating class of nurses. I don’t need to tell you how proud we are of our girls. I can see our pride reflected on your faces, too.

“These girls have done the almost impossible. Usually when girls start training they don’t have to jump in and perform as regular nurses, too. But our girls did. We didn’t have enough registered nurses, so they just went right to work. Without neglecting their studies, they stepped right in and helped where they were needed. Don’t ask me how they did it. Because frankly, I don’t know.”

The audience applauded.

Dr. Barsch smiled fondly down on his girls. “And because they did work so hard, our later classes won’t have so much to do. Also, people of Elmhurst, because of them, we have a much better clinic today than we ever dreamed we could have.”

The audience applauded again as Dr. Barsch sat down and Dr. Gallup rose. The applause for the revered doctor was deafening. He waited for a moment, nodding his impressive white head.

“What do you want me to say about my girls?” he asked the audience. “Why, I brought most of them into the world!” He rubbed his eyes. “You’ll forgive the meanderings of an old man, but I keep thinking about how quickly time passes. It seems like such a short time ago that I gave Sally Hancock her first spanking.” He paused. “Hm,” he continued, “and it wasn’t too long ago that I handed a diploma to a painfully scrubbed youngster by the name of Edward Barsch and welcomed him to the medical profession.”

In the front row, Hedda leaned over and whispered to Jean, “Where’s Ted?”

Jean looked up at the stage. “Why ... I don’t know. He was up there a few minutes ago.”

“And now,” Dr. Gallup continued, “I’m supposed to pretend that enough years have gone by to turn my Edward into a stuffy old executive and my babies into efficient nurses....”

The audience tittered. Dr. Gallup looked pleased with himself. But the titter grew into a loud laugh, and the elderly doctor turned around. Ted Loring was trying to steal, unnoticed, onto the stage. He carried a huge bouquet of red roses. He held them behind him in an unsuccessful attempt to conceal them.

Dr. Gallup clasped his hands together and rocked back on his heels. “When Dr. Loring finds his seat, we’ll continue,” he said. The audience roared as Ted blushed fiery red.

Dr. Gallup tried to cover his grin as he faced the audience once again. “To get back to our girls, I think you all know something of what it means to study for nursing. It means being able to give of yourself. It means long hours with little tangible reward. But don’t pity these girls for their hard labors, ladies and gentlemen. They know what it is to receive the greatest intangible reward of all--the gratitude of an entire community.”

The audience stood up and applauded as the girls rose to go to the stage for their diplomas.

Jean led the girls to the stage. Dr. Gallup shook her hand and kissed her cheek as he handed her the diploma. He repeated the performance with the other girls. The applause continued during the entire ceremony.

Before Jean could return to her seat, Ted rose and walked over to her. Dr. Gallup handed out the last diploma and turned toward Ted and Jean.

“I don’t know why I should have been so darned furtive about these beautiful flowers,” Ted said. “Just before the ceremony started, Ralph MacRae wired these flowers to Jean Craig, and I think they have a place in the ceremony, also.”

Everyone clapped enthusiastically, and Jean blushed as she accepted the bouquet.

Then Dr. Barsch rose again. He introduced Eileen to the assembly, and the girls passed before her to receive their black ribbons for their caps. Now they were official nurses. Eileen grabbed their hands warmly as they passed her. Dr. Barsch imitated Dr. Gallup and kissed them all soundly on the cheek.

Jean led her classmates down to their seats again. The audience crowded around them as they opened their diplomas. Ethel, with tears in her eyes, found Jean and walked with her up to meet her family.

Mr. and Mrs. Craig embraced their daughter. Mrs. Craig cried a little as she saw Ralph’s flowers.

“My own girl,” she cried. “A real, bona fide nurse!”

16. Double Triumph

“And these guys do all their own work, too,” Tommy continued. The Craig family was at lunch and at the moment was listening with mounting interest to Tommy’s story about Mercyville. For Tommy had been spending many afternoons out at the boys’ town with his new chum, Bert Cramer.

“They make their own butter and cheese from their own milk. And they’ve a neat carpentry shop, too! They make furniture and stuff. But they seem to have lots of time for games and swimming and stuff. Timmy is making a swell adjustment. He’s crazy about the place.” He grinned. “I wouldn’t mind living there myself.”

Mr. Craig smiled. “I guess we’ll have to lose you somewhere, son. Maybe Mercyville will take you in.”

Mrs. Craig nodded. “I thought they already had. Seems to me Tommy’s been out there almost constantly.”