Substitute Guest (2 page)

The doctor hung up the receiver and turned dazed, hurt eyes on his friend, the radiant look all gone from his face.

“Now can you beat that?” he said blankly. “I ask you, can you beat it? Everything all planned to go off on the noon train, even that deed here in time, and now this has to happen. I might have known things were going too slick to last. They let a fool pet dog get into the sick room where my patient is desperately ill, and he jumps up on the bed and backs against the bedside table and knocks off a bottle of very important medicine that I took the trouble to go all the way up into the mountains to take to them last night so they would have enough to last while I am away. Isn’t that the limit? And it is absolutely necessary that medicine not be interrupted. They have only enough left from the first bottle to last till six o’clock. And of course I won’t be able to hire anybody for love or money to take some more to them, not today! Not the day before Christmas!”

“Well, but surely you can hire a messenger boy,” said Alan.

“It’s seventy miles away, man, and up a mountain! How would a messenger boy on a bicycle make out? They say it’s snowing up there, too. And the woman is in a critical condition. There isn’t a chance for her life if she doesn’t get the medicine in time. I couldn’t expect anybody I hired to realize that, or care enough to carry them through difficulties.

“The woman is one of my best patients. Why they ever went up to that forsaken place at this time of year is more than I can tell, but her daughter is married and lives up there and they went to visit her three weeks ago. Then Mrs. Watt was taken sick. They let her get pretty sick before they sent for me last Wednesday. They thought she was dying, and the local doctor wasn’t sure what was the matter with her. I’ve been up three times since, was up yesterday evening, got back at two o’clock this morning. It’s some jaunt. I went up to see if it was safe to leave her, and now I suppose instead of carrying out my Christmas plans I’ve got to go up again. That’s what it is to be a doctor! Have to disappoint Natalie and the kids! But I wouldn’t feel happy in my mind if I didn’t go. You can’t trust just everybody with an errand like that, the day before Christmas. Well, perhaps I’ll get back in time to take the midnight train, and reach the farm about ten tomorrow morning.”

He touched the bell on his desk and the nurse appeared capably at the door.

“Miss Rice, prepare another bottle of that prescription I took up yesterday to Mrs. Watt. They’ve broken that one. Put it in one of those foolproof boxes so they can’t break it again. And then get Western Union and wire Mrs. Sargent that I can’t get the noon train. I’ll try to make the midnight if possible.”

“Wait, Mac,” said Alan Monteith, springing up eagerly, “don’t send the message to Natalie! Why can’t I take that medicine for you? I’ll swear on my life that I’ll deliver it in good order before six o’clock. I’ll take it as a sacred trust. I guess you can rely on me, can’t you?”

“Rely? Well, I rather guess yes, but I couldn’t think of letting you upset your plans for this. It’s just all in the day’s work for me, and you were on your way somewhere, I know. I wouldn’t have you go out of your way for anything. No, Alan, it will be all right. Really it will. I’ll get there before the day is over, and that’s all they can expect of a doctor.”

“Look here, Mac. I’ll take it hard if you refuse me. I don’t care a cent for the fool house party I’m going to. It’s the only excuse for a holiday that presented itself, and I wasn’t at all sure I was going until a few minutes before I started.”

“But I can’t have you bearing my burdens and upsetting your plans. There’s probably at least one lady involved in the case who will never forgive you. No, Alan, I can’t have you going off on a trip for me, traveling miles out of your way.”

“There is no lady involved who has a right to care, and I don’t in the least mind a trip. And how do you know it is so far out of my way? Where is it, anyway? Show me!”

Alan pulled out a map from his overcoat pocket and they both bent over it.

“Why, it’s practically on my way!” said the young lawyer, straightening up. “Of course I’ll take that medicine, and you needn’t worry a minute. Get it ready for me, Miss Rice, and I’ll start right away. There is no reason in the world why I shouldn’t have it there early in the afternoon.”

“I’ll have it wrapped in five minutes, Mr. Monteith,” said Miss Rice crisply. Then to the doctor: “Mr. Patterson is waiting, Dr. Sargent.”

“Send him right in!” said the doctor. Then he turned to Alan.

“I’ll never forget this of you, Alan. It’s an even bigger thing than getting the deal through in time, for Natalie had counted so on my coming Christmas Eve. I just know I shouldn’t let you do this, but somehow I can’t resist it. You’re sure you are not spoiling some delightful plan?”

“Not in the least! I haven’t any delightful plans, I told you. I’m not so keen on this party and don’t care when I arrive there. And I’d go twice as far to have you spend the whole of this Christmas with Natalie and the children. I’m glad to have a part in it.”

“Well,” said the doctor, with a suddenly grave face, “you’re having a part in something far more important than that, you know. You’re helping to save a life. I’m serious about that. It is a matter of life and death with my patient. And I may as well tell you the truth about it: there’s scarcely another man I know I would trust at Christmastime to take an important matter like this over. Especially with a snowstorm coming on. Almost anybody would say, ‘Oh, well, I’ve done my best. A few hours won’t matter.’ But I know you will put a thing like this first. Of course, I don’t anticipate any such necessity. I imagine this is only a flurry of snow. However, I’d take all precautions. Have you got chains on your car?”

Alan laughed.

“Oh, that’s not necessary, Mac, it’s only snowing a few lazy flakes. It won’t amount to anything. Just a flurry to give us a white Christmas. The sun will probably come out by noon and melt it off. Anyway, I don’t like chains. I always say if you are careful you make out better without them.”

“I don’t know, Alan. Up there in the mountains the storms come up in a hurry sometimes. Better take your chains along.”

“Well, I can easily get some on the way, if I see it is starting to drift. Good-bye. Give my regards to Natalie.”

There was a quick handclasp, then Alan took the package of medicine and left.

“Remember you are to spend next Christmas with us!” the doctor called and then turned to his patient and closed the door.

Out of the city traffic at last Alan Monteith whirled away into a really white world, for the snow seemed to have been very industrious during his brief stay in the doctor’s office. The ground was already covered with a fine white blanket, and the flakes were settling down with a steady plunk, though still large and frolicsome.

The car dashed briskly on into it. Alan had the road mostly to himself and flew along into the whiteness with a kind of exultant thrill. It was nice to have it snowing. It seemed more like Christmas. How he used to love it when he was a kid!

His thoughts sped on ahead to the Christmas that was before him. So different from the Christmases of the past.

Would Demeter Cass be as alluring as he had found her the two or three times that he had met her? Would there be a sweeter human side to her, perhaps, that he had not learned yet, as well as the worldly side with which she had dazzled him?

He acknowledged to himself that she was his real reason for having accepted the invitation. He had wanted to come into closer contact with her and find out if her charm was real or only superficial. And perhaps he recognized also in a vague way that Demeter had been at the bottom of his invitation, for the people who were giving the house party were only casual acquaintances of his.

Thinking about Demeter Cass, recalling the exact shade of her strange fascinating eyes under those long golden lashes, eyes that were neither blue nor green nor gray but yet had lights of all those colors that she seemed to be able to turn on at will, he drove on through the whiteness and straight past the sign that would have directed him into the way his errand called him. For someone the night before had run into that sign and snapped off the pole that held it, and it was lying facedown on the ground entirely snowed over. There was not a sign of even the broken stump of the pole.

On he swept up the mountainside, and out a wide road that would have overlooked a valley if the air had not been so filled with whiteness that the valley was obliterated.

After he had gone up and up the gradual ascent, he noticed that there were very few dwellings now, only long stretches of woodland well blanketed with snow. The silence all around him was almost appalling. One could imagine he heard the snowflakes whispering. At first he had been engrossed with thoughts, but presently he began to grow uneasy. The silence was almost sinister. He had not been watching the mileage but it seemed a long time since he had seen a route sign. Surely he would soon come to a road branching off to the left as he had been directed! Was it possible he had missed it? His windshield wiper was working away but keeping only a small space of clear vision ahead.

When at last he emerged from the woods and looked across the world it seemed made of great mountains of snow, with an atmosphere of feathers everywhere. There was no sign of the sun coming to pierce the thickness of it and guide him on his way, and the road seemed too narrow to turn around. He must go on.

At last he came to a sign, a crude, weather beaten affair, capped and veiled in snow. He got out, wiped the snow off, and peering close managed to make out the name of a town of which he had never heard, announced to be fourteen miles away.

He stumbled back into his car to study his map, but could not find the town mentioned on the sign.

The road was narrow here, with an abrupt, sheer descent off to the left. He dared not try to turn around here or to back down the mountain in this weather. He must go on until he came to a crossroad or a service station. What a fool he had been not to take the doctor’s suggestion and get his chains before leaving the city! He had a strong conviction that he had missed his turn and was now going in the opposite direction from his destination. If the house party were his only goal it didn’t matter what time he got there, nor if he ever arrived perhaps, but that medicine must get to the patient as soon as possible and set the family at rest about it! Yet he must run no risks.

About two miles farther on, he came to a house with a gasoline pump in the front. There seemed to be nothing else in sight, but the snow was so dense it was impossible to tell whether there were more dwellings.

The desolate old man who came out to wait on him informed him that he had no chains to fit his car, no chains to fit any car, and only three gallons of gasoline left, with no likelihood of any more arriving today.

Alan took two of the gallons of gasoline, which was all the old man would sell him. He said someone might come along without any, and one gallon would take him to the next service pump.

The old man, however, could tell him where he was, and gave him very clear directions how to find his turn when he reached the foot of the mountain.

He had come forty miles out of his way! Forty miles to retrace before he could make any progress! The whole expedition took on a serious aspect. However, what was forty miles? He could at least turn around here.

So he turned and went slowly down the mountain, going cautiously, for the visibility was even worse than when he had come up. The snow had subdued itself into finer grains, but a wind had come up and the road was drifted in places so that the car wallowed and rocked as it crept on. Alan realized that he had something far more important to attend to than strangely changing green-gray eyes under golden lashes. This was a serious journey and a determined storm. Life and death hung upon his arriving, and he must press on as cautiously as possible.

It seemed hours that he was creeping down that mountain, watching the gauge anxiously to see if he was going to have gas enough to get to the next service station, but at last he came to the foot and recognized under its burden of snow the old tumbled-down shanty that marked the crossing where he was to turn. He drew a breath of relief, glanced at the clock on his dashboard and plunged into the new road. The next filling station was four or five miles from this turn, the old man had said. Could he make it on so little gas? There was nothing to do but go on as long as it lasted.

At last he recognized a pump ahead and a village street with houses.

It was half past two when he left the brief shelter of that filling station, and still with no chains, wallowed on.

It was half past three when at last he reached the village of Collamer to which he had been told to come to get directions for the house on the mountainside where the medicine was needed.

Chains? Yes, they had chains here. They had oil and water and gasoline and air and advice. They advised him by no means to attempt to climb that mountain today. They told him of a drift between the village and the regular mountain road that made it impassable. They said the only possible way was to go on twenty miles and return by another road that took the back way up to the mountain home which was his destination. Of course even that road might be closed by now! They wouldn’t go if they were in his place.

Alan shut his lips grimly and said it was a matter of life and death and he was going. So they put on his chains for him and shook their heads after him before they turned to succor the next floundering car.

It was more than a mile out of sight of the village that the engine suddenly coughed and sent out a series of weird rappings,
clack, clack, clack!
An alarming sound in the white stillness, with that garage so far away and the snow in many places now almost two feet deep. How on earth had so much snow fallen in so short a day?

In dismay Alan drove on, but the clacking grew louder and more insistent, and suddenly with a great pounding sound that seemed to echo Alan’s groan, the car stopped short with an awful shudder like something that had suddenly died, and slumped in its tracks.