Then he caught the approaching Horace out of the corner of his eye and laughed hollowly.
“Cash me!”
He began rolling under the patients’ beds, playing a literal hide-and-seek with both the student nurse, who had staggered to her feet, and the nimble orderly who was saying in a loud voice.
“You are dead drunk! You ... fool!”
The final scramble took place under the bed of Lillian Parkins and Miss Kerr ran to the telephone to call the night superintendent.
As Snod Smooty caught one foot of the big man and began pulling, Lillian Parkins leaned over the side of her bed and hissed:
“Don’t let that bitch get within fifteen feet of me! Tell Matt that examination was worse than being looked over for a harem. If he doesn’t get me out of here by tomorrow night, I’ll walk out. Get the sailor out quietly, Snod. He loved that dead nurse.”
Apparently paying no attention, Snod Smooty managed to keep the scramble loud enough to cover Miss Parkins’ remarks.
He gave the sailor a little jujutsu and had him swaying down the corridor before Miss Kerr had found the night superintendent. They disappeared to the sailor’s monotone which had sunk to the note of a child trying to lull himself to sleep.
“Ring aroun’ de Roshy! Rosh’s dead. Rosh’s dead. Ring aroun’ de Roshy!”