"My papers!" said Mickey. "She fell right cross my feet. I slid them under, to make her head more pillowlike on the stones. Maybe I can sell some of them."
The surgeon motioned to a nurse at the door.
"Take this youngster to the office and pay him for the papers he has spoiled," he ordered.
"Will she—is she going to——?" wavered Mickey.
"I'm not sure," said the surgeon. "From the bleeding probably concussion; but she will live. Do you know how she came to fall?"
"There was a smear of something on the steps she didn't see," explained
Mickey.
"Thank you! Go with the nurse," said the surgeon. Then to an attendant: "Take Miss Alden's number, and see to her case. She was going after something."
Mickey turned back. "Paper, maybe," he suggested, pointing to her closed hand. The surgeon opened it and found a nickel. He handed it to Mickey. "If you have a clean one left, let this nurse take it to Miss Alden's case, and say she has been assigned other duty. See to sending a substitute at once."
Every paper proved to be marked.
"I can bring you a fresh one in a second, lady," offered Mickey. "I got the money."