Partners (12 page)

But Mrs. Beck followed after.

"You'd better leave me your address," she called after her in a raucous voice. "There might be some mail."

Dale turned and answered: "There will be no mail, I am sure, but if there should be, you tell the postman to put it in General Delivery." And Dale went down the steps and got into the taxi.

As soon as they had turned the corner out of sight of the house Dale opened her letter.

It was not long. Only a single sheet, written in hast.

 

Dear Partner: Your driver will take you to 728 Carroll Building, South Seventeenth Street. I'll meet you at the desk. Don't worry. For your protection I am doing it this way.

 

That was all, and it was unsigned. Her heart beat rather wildly as she folded the paper and put it back in her bag. Sudden tears sprang to her eyes. For her "protection," the note said. That must mean so that it would be impossible for her to tell Mrs. Beck anything. Well, she hadn't told anything to Mrs. Beck, and now presently this anxiety would be over. Seventeenth Street wasn't so very far away. But oh, if he had only told her what he had done with the baby!

As the taxi rolled along through the streets that were so clogged with snow that traffic was very much impeded, Dale sat there trying to be calm, and praying in her heart:

Oh God, help me to trust You in this. Help me to be willing to have this as You want it. I don't know why I care so awfully about it, but it does seem as if that poor little baby had taken right hold of my heartstrings. Of course, I know I couldn't have him, but, Lord, do give him to somebody who will care, and love him, and help him to get well and strong. Lord, please take care of him, and help me to trust it all with You.

The apartment house before which the taxi stopped was unpretentious but pleasant-looking, and there was a tiny park across from it. At another time Dale would have enjoyed looking about and wishing such a place could be her destination. But now her mind was full of what had become of the baby and what she was going to do next.

"You want yoh baggage carried upta seventh flo'?" questioned the driver. "The gentlemen said 728."

Dale caught her breath and tried to answer as if she knew all about it. Where in the world was she going, anyway? Should she go blindly any farther? But of course she could trust Mr. Rand. His eyes had been so honest as he looked into hers just as he was leaving and had said, "Can't you trust me?" Of course, she had to trust him.

True, she had not known him long, but even Mrs. Beck's words about him were a recommendation, although her standards were low. But if there had been anything wrong about him she surely would have made it known.

Then again she lifted her heart:
Dear Father, don't let me go wrong. Guide me!

She got out of the cab and went into the building, and there stepping out of the elevator and coming toward her was Rand, smiling and quiet.

"So glad you came through all right," he said. "Is the man bringing your things in? Yes, porter," to the doorman, "those are the bags. Take them right up."

Rand did not talk on the way as they shot up to the seventh floor, and Dale tried to keep the question out of her eyes, but he knew she was imploring him to tell her where the baby was.

"He's all right," he assured her gravely with a comforting smile.

And then the elevator door opened and they were walking down the hall, with her trunk and bags miraculously appearing from the opposite end of the hall.

Rand opened a door and let Dale into what seemed like a heaven below in contrast to her little back hall bedroom.

And there was the baby still in his chrysalis of blanket, veil and all, lying in a cunning willow crib and yelling his little head off in a fair frenzy, getting all tangled up in the fine knit white shoulder shawl that Dale had put over his face to protect him from the cold.

Dale flung off her hat and coat and flew to his assistance. The stolid chambermaid, who had been put on duty while Rand went down to meet Dale, looked at her curiously, but Rand dismissed her and closed the door.

"A doctor, a child specialist, will be here in half an hour, and he is bringing a nurse with him," Rand said. "I thought perhaps you would like to put some warm suitable garments on the baby before they get here. I had a lot of things sent up for you to pick out what you thought would be best."

He pointed to a big white box lying on a table. He lifted the cover and Dale recognized a dainty little layette.

"Oh, that's nice!" she said in relief. "I was going to try to make him some, only there wasn't time last night."

"Well, I didn't know just what to get, of course, so I told the woman he was about so long, and she sent up what she thought would do." He measured solemnly the approximate length of the little foundling, and Dale smiled in her heart over the scene of this purchase. It would be something she could laugh about later perhaps, but just now there was too much to be done.

The baby was crying fiercely, mouthing at the blanket and struggling with entanglements, and every time he drew in his breath there was a tight, hoarse cough.
Whooooooo-ough! Whooooooo-ough!
It was nerve racking. It seemed as if the little throat and lungs were being torn apart with each spasm.

Dale untangled the big soft cobweb of veil and flung it aside, and Rand stood gravely by and gathered it up, folding it awkwardly and laying it on a chair.

"If these things aren't right the shop is just around the corner and I can go and get whatever you want," Rand said meekly.

Dale turned an abstracted smile upon him.

"How nice!" she said and worked deftly on.

The room was heavenly warm, and that was good. Dale got off the wrappings as fast as she could and with one hand reached for some garments, putting them on hurriedly, taking the struggling mite unawares as it were. Perhaps she would have been more awkward herself, doing this unaccustomed work with Rand gravely watching her, if she had not realized that at any minute now a strange doctor and a critical trained nurse might enter and see her little charge in lowly attire. She must get him into some shape where he could be handled decently, and kept warm.

"Poor baby! Poor little fellow!" she crooned as Rand handed her out the garments.

There was a little wool shirt with long sleeves, and the tiny form was almost lost in its generous folds. There was a little wool slip or petticoat of finest weave. Even in her haste Dale recognized how fine and dainty the garments were, and she rejoiced that Rand had done this. Little fine wool stockings that came above the spindling skinny knees in a comforting way, and a little flannel dressing gown of palest blue all scalloped round about with hand-embroidered buttonholing. Oh, he could have gotten plainer, cheaper things at that little shop around the corner, Dale was sure, but he had picked out fine sweet attire for the little stray waif, and Dale was glad!

"Are they all right?" he asked meekly. "Will they do?"

"They are wonderful!" said Dale. "Lovely as any baby could desire. It was wonderful of you to get them! And now I wonder if we ought not to give him a little hot water? I'm a bit afraid to try milk till the doctor gets here. And he is so hoarse! Oh, I wish he would come!"

Dale sat down beside the crib and fed the baby drops of hot water, and the little fellow looked up pitifully at her, protesting, but swallowed the water, though he spilled a great part of it on the towel that was under his chin.

Rand had opened another package, and there were a pair of lovely white blankets with blue satin ribbon bindings. He spread one out over the child's feet.

"He doesn't look so bad now, does he?" said George, looking proudly down on his protégé. "Looks like a regular guy, doesn't he?"

Dale looked up and smiled, and then amazingly found she was weeping!

The telephone announced that the doctor and nurse had arrived and were coming up, and Dale gave the last touches to the child's outfit, brushed the tears away from her eyes, and bent her energies upon soothing the baby.

Rand had already, it appeared, given a brief outline of the baby's history to date, so far as he knew it, and after he had introduced Dale as the young woman who had helped get the child warmed and fed, he proceeded to describe it again, most briefly.

"Yes. Well, old man, you've been through a lot in a short time, haven't you?" said Dr. Mackenzie, putting on some earphones and stooping to listen to the baby's lungs and heart.

The room was very still while the doctor looked the baby over carefully, asked a few keen questions, some of which Rand and Dale could answer and some they could not.

The nurse stood by the radiator warming her hands. She had stepped into one of the side rooms, and returned in full array of uniform. Now she was capable and ready for the next act when the doctor should give the word.

At last the doctor straightened up and looked at them.

"Well, I guess we've got a good rousing case of pneumonia. I don't see how we're going to get by without it."

Then he called for glasses and a spoon, and gave quick directions to the nurse.

Dale listened to every word carefully and took mental note for her own use when she should be taking care of the baby--if she did. For as yet they had not talked over any plans, and Dale had not been able to think connectedly about what she herself was going to do. Her whole mind was taken up by this little sick child. It was foolish of course, but she couldn't possibly continue to care for him while she was working for her living, and she must have a job as soon as possible. There was no other way. She could not think of taking a loan from Mr. Rand. That was out of the question. Even a few dollars would be a load upon her mind until she got it repaid.

She still had her hundred dollars, of course, for she had put it in the bank at once before she left the lawyer's office, and she had been able to add just a little to it now and then, but not much. Experience had taught her that it would not take long for even a hundred dollars to melt away under daily use. Especially in a lovely apartment like this one. She could not afford to stay. Not after the stress of the illness was over.

Of course, she would not desert the baby while she was needed here, at least till after the crisis. She knew what pneumonia was, and her heart sank as she saw the look on the doctor's face. It was serious all right, and perhaps the poor little flower of a life would not last but a few hours. It would not be strange if that was the case, a poor little bit of humanity out in the bitter cold, unclad!

She looked around on the pleasant room, large, with two long windows looking toward that snow-clad park; a soft velvet carpet on the floor, good furniture; a luxurious couch, several easy chairs, a combined desk and bookcase, though there were no books in it. There were two bedrooms connecting, and a bath, and later she discovered there was a small kitchenette, though scarcely more than a boxed-in stove and cabinet and sink. It was quite possible to get simple meals there.

She discovered that Rand had taken a room on a lower floor of the same house, and there was a telephone in each room so he could be called at any time in the night if he should be needed.

Rand had gone out with the doctor, but when he came back and she had a chance to talk with him, she remonstrated him.

"You shouldn't have got such a fine apartment," she said. "This must be awfully expensive. You couldn't afford it."

He smiled gravely, almost sadly.

"Yes, I could afford it," he said. "You know, I had been saving up to get such an apartment for my mother. But now she is gone I have no more need to go on starvation rations. I think she would like me to do this. The little chap needed it, and we couldn't really hope to save his life at Mrs. Beck's. Besides, we hadn't time to shop around. I had to be spry to get all done I had to do this morning. Then there was the doctor and the nurse to be considered, to say nothing of my partner."

He gave her a warm look, and flush stole into her cheeks.

"Well, of course the nurse," she agreed. "They are used to pretty fine places, I imagine. She seems to be a wonderful nurse. But you didn't need to bother about me. I could have gone anywhere."

"Yes?" he said with an amused lifting of his brows. "I know you would, but I felt you shouldn't. You have done wonders in that little hole of a back room with that outrageous-smelling oil stove, and nothing to work with. But you deserve the best that can be found, and I meant you should have it, at least while you are interested enough in this kid to help me. So please, let's not have any more protests on that score. I knew we had to have a nurse, and she had to have her room, and you needed another. The nurse is about the best that can be had for pneumonia, the doctor tells me, and the two of you together ought to pull the little fellow through if it can be done. What I want to find out is just how soon you absolutely must go to a job. I hope you'll let me make up to you anything you may be losing through this activity in which we are engaged?"

"I don't see why you should," said Dale a little proudly. "Aren't I a partner? You called me that!"

She looked up at him shyly and smiled.

"And if I'm a partner I have a right to at least a share in the expenses, even if I can't afford to pay half. I have a little money saved up, not much, but it may help out some, and I can stay and help through the crisis, and not suffer. It wouldn't be of the least use for me to try to hunt a job just now. It's too near Christmas for people to be hiring new helpers, and I'd be too worried about the child."

A tender beautiful light came into his eyes as she said that, and she flushed a little at the look he gave her.

"Okay, partner! If that's the way you want it, so it shall be! And perhaps after this is straightened out I may be able to help a little at getting that job you are anxious about. They do have secretaries and stenographers in newspaper offices, you know. I'll keep it in mind, and you needn't worry."

Suddenly, he reached out and laid his hand gently on hers.