The Street of the City (18 page)

Meanwhile Nurse Branner took a taxi to the home of her policeman friend, and as she rode along the sunlit street she was praying in her heart that he might be at home, or at least somewhere that she could reach him.

It was a neat little gray house to which she finally pulled up, not more than a mile and a quarter from the bridge, and she could see the round, bright face of the little girl who was the baby she had nursed a little while ago looking out the window, pink cheeks aglow with health, red curls atoss.

She kept the taxi waiting while she went in to see if the man she sought was there.

“Oh Nurse Branner!” cried Mrs. Rowley in great delight as she opened the door and welcomed her. “I’ve been hoping sometime you would come, and now you are here! And see, baby, see, this is the nice nurse that saved your life!” Mrs. Rowley seized the baby at the window and brought her forward for the nurse to look at.

“Isn’t she wonderful, Nurse Branner? Jim, he can’t be thankful enough to you. He’s always saying he wished he could do something for you, who did so much for us. Sit down, won’t you, and let us look at you. It’s good to see you again. We love you so much.”

“Well, that’s very nice, Mrs. Rowley. I’m glad to be here. And I’ve come to ask your husband’s advice about something. Is he here, or could I find him at his station?”

The woman gave a quick glance at the clock.

“Oh, he’ll be here in just ten minutes, unless something hinders him. He always comes about this time for his Sunday morning breakfast. He likes fish balls for Sunday, and he wants them piping hot, so he tells me about what time to expect him, and he’ll be that glad to find you here. Excuse me just a minute, I think I smell the fish balls burning. I’ll just turn down the heat a bit.”

When Mrs. Rowley came back from her neat little kitchen Nurse Branner had the baby in her arms and was talking to her, and the baby was looking up at her charmed.

“Oh, she’s remembering you!” exclaimed the mother. “She’s that bright, Nurse Branner, you’d be surprised. But I’m sure she remembers you. Look at her cuddle down contented, smiling.”

And then in the midst of it all in walked the big policeman, with his breezy welcome and hearty voice.

“Well, bless my soul, if there isn’t our Angel-nurse Branner! Isn’t this something to honor the day? Did I ever dream to have the blessing of your presence in our humble home again?”

After Nurse Branner had laughingly received his voluble praise, and the usual words of greeting had been exchanged, Nurse Branner turned to him seriously.

“You remember I promised two years ago, James Rowley, that if ever I was in need of help I would come to you? Well, I’ve come. Maybe it isn’t help I need, maybe it’s only advice, but I thought you would be the one to come to and find out. You see, I’m staying with a little family, a mother and two daughters, one a young woman the other a mere child of five. They’ve just moved into the old Garner house, the redbrick, you know, that’s been vacant so long. They don’t know anybody around and haven’t even got a telephone in yet, though I mean to see to that tomorrow. The daughter works down the river at a defense plant and is away all day. The mother was there alone with the five-year-old girl and fell in a faint while she was clearing off the breakfast table. The little girl, all alone and very much frightened, ran across the river on the ice and called for help at Mrs. Winthrop’s, who telephoned for Dr. Ransom. He sent his office boy for me. That’s how I came to be there. Mrs. Winthrop called in Valiant Willoughby and sent him home with the child, and later sent him down to tell the older daughter. That’s the story, and there’s nothing the matter with that part, for I happened to be just off a case and am glad to help these people. They are dear people and really need me for the present anyway.

“But last night something happened that worried me. In fact, after I had thought about it a little it sort of linked itself up with something that had happened the first night I was there, and I thought I ought to tell somebody about it. I didn’t want to tell the family, for they have just about as much to worry about as they can weather. I thought of the doctor and of Mrs. Winthrop, but I sort of knew the doctor would merely laugh at me and tell me it was nothing and perhaps I ought to take a rest pretty soon. And I didn’t like to worry Mrs. Winthrop. So I suddenly remembered you, and I knew you would be the one to come to. I knew if there was anything to it you would investigate it for me, or sort of protect the house for a while or something. And if there wasn’t anything to it I knew I could believe you. So that’s why I’ve come. But there, your wife is calling you to your breakfast, and I want you to have those fish cakes while they’re hot the way you like them. Go sit down and eat and I can tell you afterward.”

The big policeman grinned.

“Yes, I like ’em hot, but I like my stories hot, too. Sit right down and have a cup of coffee with me, and go on telling. I might get called back, you know, and I wouldn’t want to go without knowing what’s on your mind.”

So Nurse Branner sat down at the table and told the story of the man who had knocked at the back door a little before midnight.

Officer Rowley filled his mouth with one of his wife’s delicious fish balls, and while he was chewing he watched the nurse’s face as she told her story, his canny eyes twinkling now and again knowingly.

“You say he was short and thick-set—stoutish?” he asked keenly as he laid down his fork and picked up his coffee cup to take a deep swig of the hot liquid.

Nurse Branner nodded.

“Have anybody with him?”

“Well, I wasn’t sure. He went down the steps to the river and walked out on the ice, and I thought I saw a shadow steal out from the bushes and join him. I guess it was a man. Taller than the first one. In fact, it wasn’t the first time I had seen a couple of men, a tall one and a short one, go by on the ice and look at our house. I didn’t think anything of it that first night I was there. And then I happened to look out another night and saw those two going by again—in fact, they were going down the river that time, and on the other side, so that I didn’t realize it was the same two until I saw them turn and veer over to our side of the river, and then I watched them go by. They were looking up at the house, even stopping an instant to point to the corner of the house. Then I saw they were the same two men. And so last night when that man knocked I realized that I had seen him before, at least I’d seen his funny chunky outline. But it didn’t mean a thing to me even then until I got to thinking it over in the night. And then I saw that while I might be just fancying all this, there might really be something to it somehow, and somebody who would know how to handle it ought to hear about it. So, Mr. Rowley, what do you think? Of course it’s none of my business at all. I’m just the nurse. But I simply couldn’t tell those poor children nor their sick mother about it. So I’ve come to somebody I thought would understand and advise me right. What do you think?”

“I think you did just right, Nurse Branner. And I’ll be glad to take over in your place and search this thing down to rock bottom. I’ll let you know if I find there’s anything to it. But to tell you the truth, your description of the man that knocked at your back door sort of tallies with a man we’ve been looking for off and on for several weeks back. Where did you say they parked their car?” And the burly officer took out a pencil and notebook and put down some incomprehensible marks.

“Now,” he said, looking up with his pencil poised, “what time did you say he knocked at the back door? And approximately what time of night was it on the other two occasions you were sure you saw the two men?”

It did not take long to tell all she knew, and then the officer went on with his breakfast and smiled at the nurse.

“Don’t you worry another little bit about this,” he said. “I’ll be glad to look into it. And in doing so I may uncover something valuable we have been trying to work out for some time. Just keep your attention out the window now and then and let me know any developments. You know there are a lot of fifth columnists going around these days. I don’t say this is one, but don’t let any strange men into your house, and tell your people not to. And if you happen to see me around anywhere, don’t worry. Though I shall probably not come myself. We’ll kind of lay low on uniformed men to give these men a chance to show their hands. But don’t worry, above all things. You folks will be thoroughly protected as long as there is the slightest doubt or danger.”

Nurse Branner went out at last with a parting kiss for the baby and a shower of blessings on her for the visit. She took her taxi quickly over to the place where she had roomed and got a small overnight bag filled with fresh garments. So she hurried back to the bridge, from which she placidly walked down to the little brick house, the light of the pleasant day shining in her face. She had done the best she could with the matter of the midnight visitor, and now she meant to send Frannie out for a walk or some kind of a restful interval.

If it only were not such a lonely neighborhood just now with all those vacant new houses, some of them not yet finished, she would insist that Frannie go to church. But perhaps it was just as well for her not to go far yet until she had established contact with a church and could get acquainted with a few young people who might go with her. But certainly not until officer Rowley had finished his investigation, and reported. She did not want to be the one to urge Frannie to go out alone in an unknown district. Of course it wouldn’t be right to count on seeing any more of young Willoughby. He had an important job, everybody understood, and then, too, he must have his own crowd who would be expecting him. He was a popular young man, and it was wonderful that he had given a strange girl as much time as he had given Frannie, even sparing time to help put up curtains. People naturally went with their own class, the ones they had been brought up with, and that was right. Only it went sorely against the grain for Nurse Branner to think of Valiant Willoughby as being paired off with Marietta Hollister. She never had liked that girl and felt pretty sure she never would.

If Nurse Branner could have known that Val had spent Saturday evening with Marietta at a concert she certainly would have been disappointed in him. For she wouldn’t have known that the young man in question was thinking of his efforts of the night before with distaste and wondering what would have been Frannie’s reaction to the same lesson in orchestral music he had given, if he had tried it out on her instead of Marietta. Perhaps sometime he would. That was something interesting to look forward to. Provided always that the war had not swept over the land to such an extent that nobody had any time for symphony concerts.

Meantime, why couldn’t he take Frannie to church somewhere? He had an idea she was a church girl and would enjoy going, perhaps to some great rally with a fine speaker. There were often such meetings in the city. He went in search of the Saturday paper and turning to the religious page discovered a number of announcements that sounded interesting. Sometime that afternoon or early evening he would go over and ask after her mother and find out if she had any plans for the evening. Or, if the nurse was going out, perhaps he could sit there awhile and talk, just in a friendly way. Since Marietta’s account of her visit he wanted to look at Frannie with that in mind. Perhaps she would say something about her caller. He could almost visualize the twinkle in her eyes when she laughed at Marietta. He had a passing wish that he might have been present and heard the exchange.

Then Val Willoughby chided himself. Was he idealizing that Fernley girl because he felt sorry for her and because she seemed sweet and appealing? He mustn’t be that kind of a fool. And, of course, there was something in what Marietta had said, much as he hated to acknowledge it. One shouldn’t go too far out of one’s own environment to form friendships.

Yes, Frannie had seemed so well brought up, so altogether refined. He remembered there had been the few pieces of fine old furniture, and some really good pictures, and the daintiness of white curtains, the thin old china on the table. No, surely, those Fernleys did not have crude tastes. Surely Marietta had been utterly wrong. He felt in his heart that Frannie was worth cultivating as a friend. In fact, he felt strangely determined to do it, and let the town gossips say what they would.

So Val did some serious reading that he had been saving for an hour of leisure, hung around until the usual five o’clock tea time that his aunt always made much of on Sunday afternoon, and then strolled out, up the hill to the bridge and over the bridge to the little brick house with its cheerful, friendly light shining down on the icy way.

As he walked he looked down the river, especially as he crossed the bridge, and thought of the lovely things that Lady Winthrop had said about it. Her “street of the city” she had called it. Her fancied way to the Heavenly City. With the silver moonbeams now upon its gleaming breast he could understand her similes. What a lovely lady she was, and how sweetly she was growing old. Taking her hardships and loneliness as if they had been blessings, giving her sons to the war, and taking what pleasure she could from the pictures the river formed for her. Thinking of her heavenly home as if she were looking forward to it with pleasure. He wondered if he would feel that way about the end of his life when he got there? That, of course, was a right way to feel. To meet it joyously, as an end in itself, and not a cessation of all that had been good.