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Read Ebook: Stanford Stories: Tales of a Young University by Field Charles K Charles Kellogg Irwin Will
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Ebook has 1145 lines and 56228 words, and 23 pages
"Oh, I hope you'll be better, and I shall look for you."
Then Mason came out to sing, and Van left with a hurried good-night. The streets were full of Christmas shoppers. At the first drug store he bought some Jamaica ginger; then he went to the hotel and slid into bed, leaving the lights on.
After the concert Perkins did not go to the caf? with the rest; he, too, hastened back to the hotel.
"I'll bet he's at the Payson ranch this minute," he thought, as he made for Van's room, but the sick musician was lying on his face, breathing heavily.
"Well, what's the matter, anyway?" said Perkins, his suspicions fading.
"I don't know," groaned Van. "It came on all of a sudden at the theatre. The pain is here on my right side. Gee whiz, it knocks me out!"
"Shan't I get a doctor?" asked the leader. "What do you think it is?"
"Of course," moaned the sufferer, "it may be appendicitis,--I don't think that could hurt more,--but it can hardly be anything like that. I've taken the ginger, and it will set me up, probably."
"You ought to have a doctor look at you, though. It's dangerous to put it off," urged Perkins.
"No," said Van. "I'll stick it out to-night, and if I'm not better to-morrow, why, you may get one. Never mind me, Ted. Where is the gang?"
"They're all down in the Grotto."
"Go on and join them; don't stay here, it isn't necessary. I'll be all right, I say, and I can ring if I'm not. Come in in the morning, won't you?"
"Sure. The train goes at ten-fifteen, you know. We can't get along without you very well."
"Oh, I'll be fit in the morning. So long, old man."
"Good-night," and Perkins shut the door.
The Freshman lay still awhile, then got up and, smiling broadly, turned out the lights and tumbled back to sleep.
Meanwhile Perkins joined the men at the restaurant.
"Van Dyke is sick," he said. "I've just been up in his room."
"What's the matter?"
"We don't know. He's afraid it's appendicitis."
"I'll tell you what it is," said Mason, the baritone; "it's heart trouble. I wouldn't believe that man Van under a triple oath, if there were a skirt in the case."
"You won't have to search far in this case," laughed a deep bass voice behind a cool stein.
"Oh, I don't think so," protested Perkins; "he looked bad, bad. I think it's square enough."
"Don't you believe him a minute. I'll bet it's a fake, pure and simple."
"He couldn't expect to work one on us."
"Why not? The time the Mandolin Club went North with the Berkeley Glee somebody played the same blooming game. It worked all right then and they joshed the life out of the leader, too. I heard Shirlock tell about it."
"See here, Perk," he said, "if he keeps up that gag to-morrow I have a scheme that is a pipe."
The invalid wore a woe-begone expression when the two fellows went in before breakfast.
"Are you any better?" asked Perkins.
"No," said Van, miserably. "The pain is just as bad. I guess I'll have to see a doctor after all."
"How did you sleep?" inquired Perkins.
"Bum. My fever was high all night," moaned the sufferer. "I heard you fellows come up, and I hoped someone might drop in. I suppose you were all too sleepy."
"Yes," said Mason, with a side look at Perkins, "everybody went right to sleep."
"Well," said the leader, "we'll go down to breakfast now, and then we will get a doctor to see you before we have to go."
Neither of them stopped to eat. They hurried first to the Polyclinic. There Perkins asked for the name of one or two physicians who were known to have little practice, and who could afford to take charge of a man who would require constant attention for a week, a middle-aged person preferred.
The man in charge gave them three names and addresses. They went first to a Doctor Mead, who displayed his shingle in a quiet street. He was a big, slow-spoken man, somewhat shabbily dressed.
Jimmy Mason approached him with such hesitation in his voice as befitted the part he was playing. They wanted the doctor on a delicate matter, he explained; it was a private affair which lay very near to them, Perkins added.
"Perhaps the case is not so grave as it seems," said the doctor, with professional calm.
"I don't see how it could be any worse." Jimmy controlled his emotion with an effort. "If it were just common sickness, but--but he's lost some of his buttons--bughouse, crazy you know,--" his giggle turned into a sob again, and Perkins, bearing up under his trouble, took the thread of the story.
"You see, Doctor, we are musicians from Stanford, travelling through here; something has happened to one of our party; I don't know what's the matter: some hallucination."
"Brown," filled in Perkins with presence of mind.
"A very able man; he stands high in the profession," said the doctor gravely.
All three being thus established on a common basis of mendacity, the head liar proceeded:
"The doctor couldn't find anything the matter, but the boy--he's only a Freshman, you see--he raised Cain that night; next day he said he was as well as ever. It's been like that ever since, Doctor. One hour he's himself and then he goes to bed and swears he's sick and wants medicines. We didn't get onto him until last night, when the poor kid got to acting loco at the concert."
Perkins played chorus at discreet intervals.
"I haven't telegraphed to his people because I wouldn't distress them till we knew. We must go on with the trip now, and we can't spare any of our men because we took no substitutes; we strike this place again in a week. You will be paid well for any services, and furnished a room at the hotel. Now, Doctor, can you arrange with your patients so that he will have your undivided time?"
Dr. Mead pondered.
"We come to you," Jimmy put in, "because we need someone on whom we can rely, a man of skill and tact."
"It happens," said the doctor after minutes of profound deliberation, "that I have no necessary calls to make until Saturday this week. What I have to do can be managed over the telephone, and I presume patients can call upon me at the hotel as well as here. Now, what are the exact particulars of your friend's aberration?"
"Can you walk up to the hotel with us, Doctor?" asked Mason, looking at his watch. "Our train leaves at ten-fifteen; we have very little time left."
On the way the two gave to the unfortunate Freshman such peculiarities, idiosyncrasies and hallucinations as seemed good; they warned the physician that he must never be left alone, and that he ought to be humored to the top of his bent in regard to his fancied attack of appendicitis.
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