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Page 51
Mrs. Slocum looked at the doctor with a wide gape of surprise.
"Thought you knew," said she. "His name is Meserve, Mr. Edward Meserve,
and if he has come and went, and not told where, he was good pay, and if
he was took sick whilst he was to my house, I could have asked twice as
much as I did before. I'd like to know what right you had to take my
boarder to the hotel. He was my boarder. He wan't your boarder. I want
him fetched right back. That's what I have came for."
"Mrs. Slocum," said Gordon in a hard voice, "Mr. Meserve is too sick to
be moved, and his disease may be contagious. You might lose all your
other boarders, and whether he recovers or not, you would be obliged to
fumigate your house, and have his room repapered and plastered."
"He's got money enough to pay for it," Mrs. Slocum said doggedly.
"How do you know?"
"You think he ain't?"
Gordon looked imperturbable.
"He always paid me regular, and he ain't been to meals or to home nights
two-thirds of the time."
Gordon said nothing.
"You mean if my other boarders went, and the room had to be done over,
he ain't got money enough to make it good?"
Gordon said nothing. The woman fidgeted. "Well," said she, "if there's
any doubt of it, mebbe he _is_ better off here." Suddenly she gave a
suspicious glance at Gordon. "Say," said she, "the room here will have
to be done over. Who's goin' to pay for that?"
"The room is isolated," replied Gordon briefly.
The woman stared. She evidently did not know the meaning of the word.
"Well," said she at last, "if the room _is_ insulted, it will have to be
done over. Who's going to pay for that?"
"I am."
"Well, I don't see why you couldn't pay _me_ for that as well as Mr.
Evans."
"Don't you?"
"No."
"Well, I do. Now, Mrs. Slocum, I really have no more time to waste. Mr.
Meserve is a very sick man, and I have to go to him. I came down here
to consult with my assistant, and you have hindered us. Good-day!"
But the woman still stood her ground. "I'm goin' to see him," she said.
"He's my boarder."
"You will do so at your own risk, and also, if your call should prove
injurious to him, at a risk of being indicted for manslaughter, besides
possibly catching the disease."
"You say it's ketching?"
"I said it might be. We have not yet entirely formed our diagnosis."
The woman stared yet again. Then she turned about with a switch which
disclosed fringy black petticoats and white stockings. "Well, form your
noses all you want to," said she. "You have took away my boarder, an' if
he gits well, and it ain't ketchin', I'll have the law on ye."
Gordon drew a deep breath when the door closed behind her. "It seems
sometimes to me as if comedy were the haircloth shirt of tragedy," he
said grimly. "Well, Elliot, we will go upstairs and begin the fight. I
am going to fight to the death. I shall remain here to-night. You will
have to look after my other patients when you leave here. I am sorry to
put so much upon you."
"Oh, that's all right," said James, following Gordon upstairs. But as he
spoke he wondered more and more that this man, after what he had known
of him, should be of more importance to Gordon than all others.
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