"Yes, I am the nurse, Miss Farwell. Dr. Abbott sent you for me?"
"'Deed he did, mam, 'deed he did—said I was to fetch yo' wid big Jim out dar. Tol' me to say hit was er'mergency case. I dunno what dat is, but dey sho needs yo' powerful bad over in Old Town—'deed dey does."
The latter part of this speech was delivered to the empty doorway. The nurse was already back in her room.
The old negro rubbed his chin with a trembling hand, as he turned with a puzzled look on his black face from the open door to the horse and buggy and back to the door again.
"Dat young 'oman run lak a scared rabbit," he muttered. "What de ole scratch I do now?"
Before he could decide upon any course of action, Miss Farwell, fully dressed was by his side again, and half way to the gate before he could get under way.
"Come," she said, "you should have been in the buggy ready to start."
"Yas'm, yas'm, comin' comin'," he answered, breaking into a trot for the rig, and climbing in by her side. "Come Jim, git! Yo' black villen, don' yo' know, dis here's er'mergency case? Yo' sho got to lay yo' laigs to de groun' dis night er yo' goin' to git left sartin! 'Mergency case!" he chuckled. "Dat mak him go, Miss. Funny I nebber knowed dat 'fore."
Sure enough, the black horse was covering the ground at a pace that fairly took Miss Farwell's breath. The quick steady beat of the iron-shod feet and the rattle of the buggy wheels echoed loudly in the gray stillness. Above the tops of the giant maples that lined the road, the nurse saw the stars paling in the first faint glow of the coming day, while here and there in the homes of some early-rising workers the lights flashed out, and the people—with the name of Dr. Harry on their lips—paused to listen to the hurried passing of big Jim.
"Can you tell me something of the case?" asked the nurse.