Page:Arthur Stringer - The Door of Dread.djvu/344

 "Then what's the matter with an easy case this time, with a room o' your own, and a three-hour taxi ride every afternoon?"

A look of alarm promptly came into Miss Poole's honest Ontarian eyes.

"I'm a trained nurse," she primly announced.

"Well, that's what I took yuh for!" "But you are not ill," protested the girl in the striped blue and white uniform.

The woman on the bed laughed a little.

"Oh, yes, I am! I gotta be! For three or four days I'm goin' to be the sickest woman in this backwoods town o' yours. And if I'm sick I guess I've gotta have a nurse."

"I don't quite understand," protested the Canadian girl.

"What's your name?"

"Mabel Poole."

"All right, Mabel. I like your looks—and I'm some judge o' maps! Yuh pass—for yuh're as honest as daylight and I know it. And if yuh don't think the same about me, yuh can make sure o' your first week's salary by takin' a double fee from that chamois coin-bag over there on the dresser!"

"But I was sent here to take care of a patient."