Cimarron Valley Clipper (Coyle, Okla.), Vol. 24, No. 24, Ed. 1 Thursday, January 1, 1925 Page: 3 of 8
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CIMARRON VALLEY CLIPPER
The Truant Soul
“IT ISN'T ENDED"
SYNOPSIS. — Nurses In the
Southern hospital at Avonmouth
are angered by the Insolent
treatment accorded them by Dr.
John Lancaster, head of the In-
stitution, and there Is a general
feeling of unrest. Into which
Joan Wentworth, probationary
nurse, Is drawn. Doctor Lancas-
ter is performing: a difficult oper-
ation, for which he has won
fame. Joan, with other nurses,
is In attendance. She is upset,
thrpugh no fault of her own, and
makes a trivial blunder at a crit-
ical moment. The patient dies
and Doctor Lancaster accuses
her of clumsiness. She Is sus-
pended, the action meaning the
end of her hope of a career as a
nurse.
CHAPTER II—Continued
—3—
In the town of forty thousand In-
habitants Joan was as Isolated as she
had been in the latter years at home.
Her life was ns unsophisticated and
ns simple, and she was so unacquaint-
ed with the conditions and circum-
stances of existence that her dismissal
seemed to her sn irreparable disaster.
She hud won good opinions, she had
been praised, and It seemed monstrous
that her faintness at a critical moment
should have ruined her whole life
prospects. What made the tragedy
the less tolerable was the admixture
of the farcical. There was a simple
and absurd explanation. Mrs. Webb’s
colored cook, Amanda, bad quarreled
with her mistress that morning, and
Joan had had to go to the hospital
without her breakfast.
She tot up and walked slowly home-
ward without having resolved her
problem. Inside the boarding house
the air was like a furnace, and the
smell of cooking was triumphant and
dominant.
Inside the kitchen, seen through the
open door, was Amanda, the cook, and
Mrs. Webb, the landlady.
“Here’s Amanda again!” Mrs. Webb
called to Joan. “My dear, the Idea
of your running away without your
breakfast this morning! Now you sit
right down and have your lunch. Miss
Wentworth 1”
Joan was not hungry, but It was Im-
possible to oppose the resolute Insist-
ence of Mrs. Webb, backed by the
peni'.ent cook, whose black face, as
she flitted from the kitchen to the
dining room, radiated remorse and
good intentions.
"One can’t get along without the
proper food at the proper times,” said
Mrs. Webb as she set down the
dishes before Joan. “But I call It real
sensible of you to have come home
early. Some girls wouldn’t have
thought of that.”
Joan choked suddenly, and Mrs.
Webb perceived her distress. She
bent over her and placed a kitchen-
roughened hand upon her shoulder.
“M.v dear, what is It? What Is the
matter? Something gone wrong at
that old hospital?” she asked. "Tell
me sow, honey 1”
“It Isn’t anything, Mrs. Webb,” said
Joan, striving valiantly to keep back
her tears. “Well, then. I’m—I’m dis-
charged.”
Mrs. Webb withdrew her hand and
placed It upon one hip, bringing the
other into corresponding position. Shj
glared at Joan, ns the convenient
focus of her Indignation.
"1 never heard of such a thing I” she
Aried. “Who s dared to discharge you,
Miss Wentworth? Why, It was only
yesterday Miss Gray was saying you
were the only one in the hospital that
attended to her work Instead of trying
to make dates with the doctors 1 I’ve
had the nurses two years now, Miss
Wentworth, and they ain’t a snap bet-
ter than the snlesladies I used to keep,
A pack of fentherhends! If some of
them had been discharged ’twould
serve them right. But n t you, my
dear. It’s that old Doctor Lancaster!”
“It was, and I think he was right.
1 felt faint from the smell of ether_”
“Of course you did!” cried Mrs.
Webb. "1 always knew tlie day would
come when you would. Those smells
make my head go round and round
whenever I take the short cut that
side of the park. 1 always said yon
weren’t cut out for that sort of work.
It’s all right for them strong he-horse
girls that’s made for It, but what you
need Is to marry some good tnan > ho
con take care of you. not to go nurs-
ing n lot of dock-hands and seeing
people’s Insides opened up. It’s my
belief that when the Lord put our In-
sides Inside and our outsides outside
he meant 'em to stay there,” snorted
‘ Mb. Webb.
“Well,” said Joan wearily, “It's end-
ed now. And I don't know what I'm
going to do.”
“But I say it Isn't ended!” cried
Mr* Wehb, concentrating all her In-
dignation ngnlnst Lancaster In a ven-
omous glare at Joan. “It’s only Just
begun. If that old Doctor Lancaster
dares to discharge you, I'm going to
tell everything I know about him.
By *
*
Victor Rousseau
Copyright by W. G. Chapman
Miss Wentfvorth, that man's no more
fit to be at the head of a hospital, with
ladles under him, than he’s fit to fly.
What Is he? Nothing but a fast liver
and a common drunkard."
“Never mind, Mrs. Webh 1"
“But I do mind. To think of a man
like that, who went about with a
gang of common tramps for years.
Miss Wentworth, Just breaking away
from his Job and hoboing It up and
down the country and then coming
hack and gottlng his Job again and
acting as he does I All that 1 aa.v Is
common knowledge. Five years after
the hospital had seen the last of him
In he walks, as bold as brass, and puts
the head doctor out, and says the hos-
pital’s his and he's going to run it
again. And him being In charge of
the nurses—him that runs 'round in
his auto with every pack of cheap ac-
tresses that comes to Avonmouth I I
know what they nrel I hnven’t been
In the boarding house business twenty
years for nothing 1”
Mrs. Webb was becoming Incoherent.
Joan succeeded In stopping the flow
of vilification at last, mainly because
Mrs. Wehb had ewhausted it.
“Now I tell you what you are going
to do, my dear,” she said. “You’re
going straight to that old Lancaster’s
house and you are going to ask for
your place back. And you're going to
get It, too.”
“Mrs. Webb, how can I do ’.hat?”
“How can you do It? Why, you can
manage him all right, my dear. 7es,
I guess ’tis going to be all right I
suppose he lost his temper. When a
man leads the sort of life he does he
hasn’t much good humor left the
morning after. I know about that.
You Just go to him and act as If you
didn’t care much and let him think
you look on him as Just the finest man
In the world.”
"Please, Mrs. Wehb I" expostulated
Joan; and as she spoke there came
hack Into her mind vividly the sinister
advice of the dark-haired girl.
"You've only got to let him see your
face, my dear,” continued the land-
lady. "You see, It’s this way. When
he’s In the hospital he’s thinking
about his work. A nurse la Just a
nurse to him then. But after his
work’s over she’s different. Now don’t
tell me you can’t make that man do
anything yju want him to, because
I know better.”
Joan crimsoned. “I couldn’t think
of such a tiling,” she protested.
“And why not?” inquired the other.
“If you’ve got good looks, ain’t you
going to use them? It Isn't as If I
was asking you to do anything wrong,
is it? You'd be a precious fool If you
didn’t Any girl can twist a man
round her finger, especially If she
looks weepy.”
Joan locked at Mrs. Webb In great
distress. She rose, but the landlady
followed her toward the door.
“You see, my dear,” she went on,
“If you were giver, that sort of face
by the Almighty, why shouldn’t you
use it to get plain, common Justice
done you? it’s your Jot that’s at
stake, and you all alone In the world.
All yo <’ve got to do is to make him
forget that he’s dealing with a nurse.
There isn’t anybody would think twice
about 1L Didn’t Amanda do It this
morning, coming to me with her big,
black, honest face and looking at me
so that 1 had to take her back, as 1
was glad enough to do? You go
straight and see that old. Lancaster
and try It, that’s all!”
A nurse passed the window and
came up the steps.
''Mrs. Webb, you won’t say a word
about what I’ve told you to the others,
please?" asked Joan.
She flew upstairs and, flinging her-
self down on her bed, stared out dls-
mnlly toward the monument The ca-
tastrophe had swept her little, unshel-
tered world away. The sense of her
loneliness swept over her like a black
cloud, appalling her. She was cut off
from life, and utterly helpless outside
the medium In which she had lived.
Because she felt this sense of home-
sickness, her outraged pride began to
vanish before the terrors that her
Imagination conjured up. Starvation,
the ultimate terror of her childish
days on the estate, which like a living
thing had gnawed Into her mother's
nine hundred dollnrs, seemed Incred-
ibly real nnd-near. She must ask for
her position back I
She must fnce Lancaster In hts
home, humble her pride, and bow to
him; hut she watched the sun decline
and the shadows lengthen, and for a
time she could not bring herself to
her task.
What strengthened her at last was
the realization that her statu® must he
settled before she faegd the day
nurses coming home off duty. She
slipped on her cloak and went out. of
the house softly, and to escape the
landlady's attentions Joan went has-
tily toward Lancaster's house.
She had passed It almost dally on
_:___
her Journeys to and from the hospital
It was an ordinary brick house In a
new block at the north end of the
park, and commonplace enough, but
now, to her excited eyes, It seemed to
reflect the grim personality of Its
owner In the staring windows, with
the shining door knobs of brass, and
the brass name plate.* Her heart wus
beating with panic, end It was with
difficulty that she qontrlved 1 < press
the bell and to remain until the door
was opened,
A white attendant confronted her—
a sullen, undersized man with square
shoulders, who scowled at her as he
stood blocking the passage.
“Doctor Lancaster?” asked loan.
“He doesn't see patients after five,"
answered the man.
“I must soe him. It Is Important,”
faltered the girl.
“Well, I’ll find out If he can see
you,” the fellow grumbled. “Walk in
If you want to.”
He had not recognized Joan’s uni-
form beneath the cloak. She gave film
her card and went Into the waiting
room. There the sense o” the terror
which made that place Its domain, the
accumulated fears of all who had ever
waited there for the approaching ver-
dict, seemed to leap out at her.
Then Joan heard Lancaster’s voice
In the next room, which was divided
from he waiting room by folded
doors. It was audible as s bass
rumble, emerging occasionally Into a
distinguishable sound. Lancaster was
talking with somebody, and ho was
growing angry. That was an 111 omen
of what was to come I
Joan braced her nerves. She was
anything but a coward, and, having
made up her mind, she Intended to
carry her scheme through.
Suddenly Lancaster's voice was
raised In violent altercation.
“A nice mess you've made '•t every-
thing I” he cried. "I’ve tolerated you
too long. I’ve been a fool, but I’ve
finished with you now. Go back *.. here
you came from 1”
Another voice spokq In Indistinct
tones. It was that of a man, and It
was almost abject In contrast with
Lancaster's violence.
“I’ve finished with you, I tell you 1"
cried Lancaster. “I’ve borne this bur-
den long enough. You can get out of
my house. You can get out of my
life.” *
"I’ve borne It long enough, too,” re-
plied the other, doggedly. “Who
started it? Who made the first pro-
posal?"
“I did, out of kindness to you. And
how have yo” repaid me?”
“By placing myself, soul and body,
nt your service,” retorted the second
man, aroused Into some show of spirit
"Who picked you out of the gutter
and set you on your feet?” rejoined
the doctor. “Answer that I You can’t I
You know yon can't! Where would
you be today If It were not for me?"
The second man said something In a
low voice.
“Myers? A lot I care about that I"
retorted Lancaster. “I t“!l you—
what's that?” The white attendant
was speaking at the door. Joan rec-
ognized his rasping voice.
“Not Not" cried Lancaster, vio-
lently. “I see nobody. Why can’t
these women come during my hours?
Aren’t they posted plainly enough
npon the card in my window? Tell
her?—what? Important? Well, let
her wait, U an, until I get ready to
see her.”
The man’s steps died away along
the rear end of the passage. Joan
heard the two men talking again.
Then the sounds ceased. She beard
the floor in the adjoining room creak
beneath a quick tread. Lancaster was
coming In! Her fears gave her reso-
lution. She would anticipate that
movement, see him, Insist She left
the waiting room and went Into the
hall.
It was hung with little pictures of
a uniform size, each exactly like its
neighbor. It came Into the girl’s
mind, even during those few hasty
steps, that this was essentially a
man’s house; a woman would have ar-
ranged things differently, have given
the place personality, have made her
presence felt somehow, even In the
decoration cf this dark passage. The
atmosphere was that of an Institution,
not of a home.
Then she was standing with caught
breath nt the door of the consulting
room, which was a little ajar, as if the
catch had become unfastened. She
knocked, opened It, and went la
Is It legitimate for a preUy
girl to vamp her way, when or-
dinary methods fsil? What do
you think?
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
Definition
A man Is middle-aged when be can
no longer he romantic without think-
ing himself an ass.—Ban Francisco
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Cimarron Valley Clipper (Coyle, Okla.), Vol. 24, No. 24, Ed. 1 Thursday, January 1, 1925, newspaper, January 1, 1925; Coyle, Oklahoma. (https://gateway.okhistory.org/ark:/67531/metadc912314/m1/3/: accessed April 25, 2024), The Gateway to Oklahoma History, https://gateway.okhistory.org; crediting Oklahoma Historical Society.