Part 22 (1/2)

A low indistinct sound, half groan, half sobbing, came from the open windows of the little tent. And as they drew near, their feet rattling the dry sand, there came a warning call.

”A light, a light, a light,” begged Miss Tucker. The nurses hesitated, half frightened, and as they paused they heard a low drip, drip, inside the tent, each drop emphasized by Miss Tucker's sobs.

The porter flashed a pocket-light, and they opened the door. Miss Tucker lay in a huddled heap on her bed, her hands over her face, her shoulders rising and falling. The nurses shook her sternly.

”What is the matter with you?” they demanded.

Finally, she was persuaded to lift her face and mumble an explanation.

”I was asleep, and I heard my name called, and I looked up. There was a white shadow on the door. I seized my pillow and threw it with all my might, and there was a loud crash and a roar, and then began that drip, drip, drip,--oh-h-h!”

”You silly thing,” said Miss Alien. ”Of course there was a crash. You knocked the chimney off your lamp,--that made a crash all right. And the lamp upset, and it is the kerosene drip, dripping from the table to the floor. Girls who must have kerosene lamps to heat their curlers must look for trouble.”

”The white shadow--” protested the girl.

”Moons.h.i.+ne, of course. Look.” Miss Alien pulled the girl to her feet.

”The whole mesa is in white shadow. Run around to the tents, girls,”

she said to her a.s.sistants, ”and tell them Miss Tucker had a bad dream,--nothing wrong. We will have a dozen bed patients from this night's foolishness.”

Miss Tucker refused to be left alone and a nurse was detailed to spend the night with her.

When the nurses on their rounds reached Miss Landbury's room in the McCormick Building, they had another fright. The room was empty. The bed was cold,--had not been occupied for hours, likely. They rushed to the head nurse, and a wild search was inst.i.tuted.

The Dukes' room, Number Six, McCormick, was wrapped in darkness.

”Don't go near them,” Miss Alien said. ”Perhaps they did not hear the noise, and Mr. Duke should not be disturbed.”

So the wild search went on.

But after a time, a Mexican porter, with a lantern, seeking every nook and corner, plodded stealthily around a corner of the McCormick.

He heard a gasp beside him, and turning his lantern he looked directly into the window, where four white, tense faces peered at him with staring eyes. He returned their stare, speechlessly. Then he saw Miss Landbury.

”Ain't you lost?” he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed.

Miss Landbury, frightened out of her senses, and not recognizing the porter in the darkness, shot into her bed on the floor, and David answered the man's questions. A moment later an outraged matron, flanked by two nurses, marched in upon them.

”What is the meaning of this?” they demanded.

”Search me,” said David pleasantly. ”Our friends and neighbors got lonesome in the night and refused to sleep alone and let us rest in contentment. So they moved in, and here we are.”

Both Gooding and Miss Landbury positively declined to go home alone, and other nurses were appointed to guard them during the brief remaining hours of the night. At four o'clock came sleep and silence and serenity, with Carol on the floor, clutching David's hand, which even in sleep she did not resign.

The next morning a huge notice was posted on the bulletin board.

”Any one who tells a ghost story, or discusses departed spirits, in this inst.i.tution or on the grounds thereof, shall have all privileges suspended for a period of six weeks.

”By order of the Superintendent.”