Jean Craig,
Graduate Nurse

FALCON

BOOKS

Jean Craig, Graduate Nurse

By Kay Lyttleton

As Jean Craig finished her training and prepared for graduation, illness struck—first in her own family, and later in epidemics that swept the village of Elmhurst. It was with a deep feeling of satisfaction that Jean was able to give trained and efficient aid at the hospital. It was with equal satisfaction that she watched romance blossom between Dr. Benson, the fresh young intern, and Eileen Gordon, the new Supervisor of Nurses, and discovered that her sister Kit was practically engaged. But the joy of the family reached a new peak when Doris, the youngest daughter, won a music scholarship. Jean Craig, Graduate Nurse is another heartwarming and happy story about the Craigs of Elmhurst.

OTHER JEAN CRAIG BOOKS

• Jean Craig Grows Up
• Jean Craig in New York
• Jean Craig Finds Romance
• Jean Craig, Nurse

Dr. Benson spent long hours in Timmy’s room.

JEAN CRAIG,
GRADUATE NURSE

by KAY LYTTLETON

THE WORLD PUBLISHING COMPANY
CLEVELAND AND NEW YORK

FALCON BOOKS
are published by THE WORLD PUBLISHING COMPANY
2231 WEST 110th STREET · CLEVELAND 2 · OHIO

WP 8·50

COPYRIGHT 1950
BY THE WORLD PUBLISHING COMPANY
MANUFACTURED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

Contents

JEAN CRAIG,
GRADUATE NURSE

1. Illness Strikes!

The small village of Elmhurst, Connecticut, was enjoying a balmy early spring. The March winds were soft breezes coaxing the New England earth to life again.

Night had settled after a long twilight, and gay sounds could be heard coming from the nurses’ quarters at the Gallup Memorial Clinic. The clinic, now almost two years old, was the pride of the community. Before it was built, Dr. Gallup, gentle, wise and able physician, had tended the sick, brought babies into the world and guarded the health of the community with constant vigilance.

Like the noble man he was, Dr. Gallup refused to retire from active practice until he had helped to provide for the future medical care of his beloved patients. And because the town loved and respected him, they backed him solidly. Together the people of Elmhurst created the Gallup Memorial Clinic. And now, the white clapboard house which had once belonged to a wealthy native was a small but efficient combination hospital and clinic for the community.

Dr. Edward Barsch, eminent surgeon, had come down from Boston to serve as head of the clinic. His staff was small but competent, and he had managed to open an accredited nursing course.

It wouldn’t be long before the first class of nurses would graduate. Standing high in the class, Jean Craig, one of the very first girls interested in the clinic, was looking eagerly toward the summer day when she would win her cap.

But tonight there was no thought of graduation. The nurses were planning a party. For there was a wedding in the offing, and the excited girls were wrapping presents and prettying themselves for Ethel Simpson’s wedding shower.

Ethel had come down from Boston with Dr. Barsch to act as supervisor of nurses. As is told in Jean Craig, Nurse, Jean and her classmates had been taught and guided by the lovely, competent girl through their year and a half of training. They had also laughed and cried with her during her courtship and subsequent engagement to Dr. Ted Loring, staff pediatrician. And now they were planning many gay and exciting parties to celebrate the coming wedding.

The party was to be held at the Craig farmhouse just outside of town. And while the girls were getting ready, Mrs. Craig was making a final inspection of her home. When she was satisfied with the preparations, she threw open the front door of the farmhouse and took a deep breath of the fresh spring air.

It would be a happy spring, Mrs. Craig thought. Each year that passed seemed to push the war and the hardships that followed farther back in the shadowy memories of the family. Here in this simple village they had found peace and happiness.

She smiled as she thought of her family. It was truly growing up. Jean, her oldest daughter, was an adult. In a few months she would be twenty-one. It was exciting to have an adult daughter, Mrs. Craig thought fondly. Jean would be old enough to vote. She would be a registered nurse, and lastly, but most important of all, she would soon be a bride herself.

Five years ago, when the Craig family had moved to Elmhurst to forget the misery of the war years, Jean had met Ralph MacRae, a handsome young Canadian boy from Saskatoon, Saskatchewan. Jean Craig Grows Up tells how Ralph sold his Elmhurst farm to the Craig family, and lost his heart to Jean in the bargain.

Next came Kit. Mrs. Craig smiled in spite of herself as she thought of her nineteen-year-old impetuous daughter. Kit was the family scholar. She had been sent to Hope College in Delphi, Wisconsin, by a crotchety old uncle, and she had endeared herself to the elderly scholar by turning into a scholar, herself. The tale of Kit’s entrance to Hope College is told in Jean Craig Finds Romance. Mrs. Craig chuckled as she remembered how Kit and Uncle Bart had stumbled upon a secret while they were examining an ancient Egyptian mummy case, and how the money awarded to Uncle Bart was now providing her daughter with the chance for her education. Although Kit was many miles away from her family, Mrs. Craig could almost feel the vitality of her daughter halfway across the continent.

Doris was the youngest daughter. Mrs. Craig thought of her sweet, pretty seventeen-year-old with tenderness. Doris was shy. In her demure way, she often made her mother think of girls of generations past. There was something almost old-fashioned about the feminine child. But Doris was also very talented. Right now, while Mrs. Craig waited for the guests to arrive, she could hear Doris softly playing a Debussy etude. The music blended with the soft evening air and made the atmosphere nearly perfect.

As Mrs. Craig thought of her son, Tommy, her mood changed. No one could think of fifteen-year-old Tommy without smiling in amusement. Tommy was all boy. His head was full of eager projects, and his legs were long and still awkward. But he was a businessman, too. His chickens had provided him with enough money for spending and for a good start on his future college education. During the years that Mr. Craig had been invalided after the war, Tommy had been the man of the family. But though he knew the value of a dollar and the rich returns for hard work, there was mischief and play in the boy. Baseball season was just around the corner, and this, to Tommy, was as important as the money he was putting away for the future.

Mrs. Craig frowned suddenly. She was thinking of Jack, the Craigs’ adopted son. Several years before, the homeless waif had found his way to the Craig’s home and into all their hearts, and he had never left. Jack was now thirteen. Two years ago, Mr. Craig had formally adopted the boy, and he was now as truly a member of the family as any of the other children. But Mrs. Craig was worried about him. Perhaps he was growing too fast. For the past month, Jack had been listless and pale. His appetite was poor ... a sure sign that something was wrong.

As she fretted about Jack, Jean came out on the porch and slipped her arm around her mother’s waist. She was wearing a simple, pale blue party dress which set off her sparkling eyes and curly brown hair.

“Everything’s ready,” she said. “Doris and Becky have organized the whole party. And whatever are you baking in the kitchen? I can hardly wait to find out!”

Mrs. Craig squeezed her daughter’s hand. “I wonder if we’ve ever tried to have any sort of party in this house without Becky’s help,” she mused.

Jean laughed. “Aunt Becky would be positively insulted if you didn’t ask for her help, and you know it,” she answered.

“Aunt Becky would be lost without the Craig family to look after, you mean,” Mrs. Craig laughed. “Ever since she urged us to come to Elmhurst in the first place, she’s been watching over us like a mother hen.”

Jean giggled. “I would give anything to be at the hospital now. Did I tell you that the doctors have taken over for the nurses tonight? So that the girls could all come to the shower. I can just see Dr. Daley and Dr. Jenkins running to answer patients’ calls.”

“It was lovely of them to volunteer,” Mrs. Craig said.

Jean nodded. “Oh, they’re all like that. I guess you have to cooperate if you have such a small hospital. Oh golly,” she sighed, “the wedding makes me want to cry.”

“I know how much you miss Ralph, dear,” Mrs. Craig answered. “Just a few more weeks and he’ll be back again.”

“He’s in Norway now. Did I tell you, Mother?” Jean asked.

Mrs. Craig laughed. “Yes, dear. You told me. In fact, you read me his last letter.”

Jean blushed. “That’s right. I guess I’ve told you a hundred times.”

Mrs. Craig smiled. “I think it’s wonderful that you want to talk about Ralph so much.”

Doris came out on the porch and breathed deeply of the fresh air. “What a night for a party!” she exclaimed. “It’s just about perfect!”

“Where’s Becky?” Mrs. Craig asked.

“Oh, she went upstairs to see Jack for a minute.”

Mrs. Craig sighed. “Has Jack gone to bed? So early?”

Jean turned around to face her mother. “I thought he and Tommy were going over to Billy Ellis’s for the night.”

Mrs. Craig shook her head. “Tommy went, but Jack said he didn’t feel well.”

Doris sat down on the porch swing. “Becky went up to give him a tonic. She said something about springtime and sulphur and molasses....”

“And sulphur and molasses never hurt anyone,” Aunt Becky said as she came out to join them. “I tell you, you have to get winter out of a growing boy’s bones. The way that youngster has been mizzering around lately just proves it. When he passed up the chance to spend the night with us, I knew something was wrong.”

“Is Jack in bed, Becky?” Mrs. Craig asked.

“Yes, he is. He’s just plumb tuckered out. No wonder. He didn’t eat enough supper to keep a bird alive.”

Mrs. Craig said, “I’ll go up to him in a few minutes. After the guests arrive.”

Just then a car turned into the Craig driveway. Doris stood up. “Here they come. Don’t forget, Mother, Becky. This is a surprise party.”

The car door opened and Hedda and Ingeborg hopped out. The student nurses ran up the steps while Ethel switched off the ignition and headlights and climbed out after them.

“Evening, Mrs. Craig, everyone,” the girls called as they came up to the porch.

“Good evening, girls,” Mrs. Craig replied, grasping their hands. “Ethel, dear, you look lovely this evening.”

Ethel slipped off her white wool jacket and displayed her silver-green party dress. She whirled around. “See the skirt,” she laughed. “Ted helped me pick this out.”

“He has lovely taste, then,” Mrs. Craig said.

“For a man,” Hedda added. “It’s simply gorgeous.”

Ethel smiled as she thought of her fiance. “You know, it’s wonderful,” she said softly. “I haven’t any father or mother to help me prepare for the wedding, so I have a fiance who can be so helpful and wonderful in these things!”

Mrs. Craig smiled fondly at the girl. “Well,” she said briskly, “let’s go inside.”

The girls drifted into the living room. Doris sat down at the piano and began to play a popular tune. They all grouped around her and began to sing as Mrs. Craig slipped out to the kitchen.

Jean heard sputtering and backfiring in the driveway. “Here come Helen and Eileen,” she cried.

In a few minutes, the two girls appeared in the doorway. “Old Bessy made it up your hill,” Eileen giggled. “There’s life in the old rattletrap yet.”

“How’re the doctors making out over at the clinic?” Ingeborg asked.

Helen chuckled. “Oh, just fine. Can you imagine Dr. Jenkins making formula for the babies? He certainly looked fussed and awkward.”

“Wait till Ted’s bachelor dinner,” Jean teased. “Then I suppose we’ll have to do all their work.”

“Dr. Barsch is at the desk,” Helen continued. “Any calls tonight are going to be answered by St. Peter himself,” she said irreverently.

Lucy Peckham and Sally Hancock came in the door just as Mrs. Craig brought in a large bushel basket decorated with white and gold paper. The basket was heaped with shower gifts for Ethel.

“Here you are, my dear,” Mrs. Craig said. “And you know we all wish you great happiness with every gift.”

Tears glistened in Ethel’s eyes as she looked at the basket.

“I sort of knew it would be a shower,” she admitted. “But I never had a basketful of presents before in my life. You just shouldn’t have done it!”

Doris started to play the Wedding March, and the girls clustered around Ethel as she slowly opened her presents. Mrs. Craig waited till the first gift was opened, and then she slipped out into the hall. As she started up the stairs, the door opened, and Mr. Craig and Ted Loring came in.

She turned around and came down to greet her husband and the young doctor. “Why, Ted,” she said fondly, “how nice to see you!” She smiled at her husband.

“Ted and I have some things to talk over, Marge,” Mr. Craig explained. “We thought tonight would be a fine time.”

“Then you didn’t come to join the party?”

Ted stared at her in mock horror. “Heaven forbid!” he exclaimed. He peeked through the entranceway into the living room. “They do look lovely, don’t they?”

Mr. Craig smiled at the sight of the radiant girls. “Yes, they do,” he agreed. “Now Marge, if you’ll excuse us, I’ll just take this young man into the study.”

“Oh, of course,” Mrs. Craig said. “I’m on my way upstairs. I’ll bring you some hot chocolate later, if you like.”

They both smiled and nodded as she went upstairs.

“Come in, Ted,” Mr. Craig said, opening the door to his study. They sat down in comfortable chairs and pulled out their pipes.

Mr. Craig smiled disarmingly at the boy. “You might call this a trial run for me, son,” he said.

“I don’t understand, sir,” Ted replied, lighting his pipe.

Mr. Craig leaned back and stared out of the window. “I guess you know that our daughter will be getting married pretty soon. When young MacRae comes back from Europe, probably. I guess he’ll want a few words with me beforehand. So I thought I’d ... well, I’d practice on you.”

Ted nodded. “You don’t know what this means to me, Mr. Craig,” he said warmly. “You and Mrs. Craig have been like a second father and mother to Ethel, and this gesture just about completes the picture.”

Mr. Craig nodded. “Fine girl,” he mused. “I can’t remember knowing any finer girl, as a matter of fact. Well, I guess all young people have to listen to some old man recount the blessings and pitfalls of marriage sooner or later. Your mother is still living, isn’t she, Ted?”

“Yes, sir. She will be here next month for the wedding. She and Ethel have been corresponding for several months, now. Needless to say, Mother is thrilled.”

The older man nodded. “I’m glad to hear that. Now, Ted, I’m in no position to ask you impertinent questions about your bank account or your ideas about marriage or anything else. But I just want to give you a little advice. Advice which I think you can use. In some ways, you and I are very much alike. Before I went into the Army, I was pretty absorbed in my work. Perhaps I knew as much as the average husband and father about what was going on in my family. But it took a war and a serious illness to prove to me that no work in the world is one quarter as important as a man’s wife and children.

“I know what medicine means to you, Ted. I have some idea of the demands it makes on you. But never forget that you will have a wife who will stand beside you and will help you fight whatever battles come along. Just don’t forget to let her help you in the fight....”

Mrs. Craig knocked softly at the door.

“Come in, Marge,” Mr. Craig called. “We could use some hot chocolate.”

“I’m sorry,” Mrs. Craig said as she closed the door behind her. “I didn’t intend to break in on you quite so soon. But, dear, I’m worried. Jack is upstairs in bed. He isn’t feeling at all well.”

Mr. Craig tapped the heel of his pipe in his hand. “Something he ate for supper?”

Mrs. Craig shook her head. “No, it’s a cold, or, well, I don’t exactly know what. He has some fever.”

“How high a fever, Mrs. Craig?” Ted asked.

Mrs. Craig smiled almost apologetically. “Hardly any at all. His temperature registers just over ninety-nine. But he feels so bad. He says he aches all over.”

Ted started for the door. “If you don’t mind, Mrs. Craig, I’m going to take a look at him,” he said.

2. A Villain Unmasked

Jack was lying face down on his cot when Ted and Mr. and Mrs. Craig came into his room. He turned his head with a grimace and looked up at them listlessly. Ted walked quickly over to him and sat down on the floor beside his bed.

“Just let your head down, Jack,” Ted said as Jack tried to look up at his mother and father. “Now tell me where you hurt.”

“All over,” Jack whispered.

Ted nodded. “Does it hurt to talk?”

Jack nodded.

Ted looked up at Mrs. Craig. “How long has he been feeling this way?”

Mrs. Craig said helplessly, “I don’t think it’s ever been this bad. He’s been sort of listless ever since he had a cold last month.”

Ted picked up Jack’s arm gently. He pressed against the elbow. Jack winced.

“What kind of cold was it?” Ted asked.

Mrs. Craig smoothed Jack’s forehead. “Well, he first had the sniffles, and then a sore throat and then a cough. Pretty much like all his colds. Then, a while later, he got another sore throat. He ran some fever.”

“Uh huh,” Ted said, nodding his head.

“Mother, my head aches,” Jack moaned.

Ted sighed and stood up. “Well, we can’t do anything here. If you don’t mind, I’d like to run him over to the clinic and let Dr. Barsch and Dr. Jenkins have a look at him. I came on a social call, and I don’t even have a stethoscope with me.”

Mrs. Craig straightened up. “Is it serious, Ted?” she asked.

Ted hesitated and then nodded. “It might be, Mrs. Craig,” he said. He picked up Jack’s wrist and looked at it. “There’s some swelling here. You see?”

Mr. and Mrs. Craig both nodded.

“Well, let’s get him to the hospital,” Ted said. “If we can wrap him up in blankets, we don’t need to bother him with clothes.”

Mrs. Craig picked up Jack’s blankets and wrapped them around the bewildered boy. Ted smiled at him and said, “Cheer up, son. These things happen to the best of us. We probably won’t keep you at the clinic very long.”

Mrs. Craig started for the door. “I’ll get my coat,” she said.

Mr. Craig caught her arm. “Let me take the boy over, Marge,” he said. “The girls will need you for their party.”

Mrs. Craig whirled around. “I can’t leave him now!” she cried. “My boy is sick, and I’m going to stay with him!”

Mr. Craig put his arm around his distraught wife. “Of course, dear,” he said. “And please don’t worry.”

“Get your car ready,” Mrs. Craig said to Ted. “Mr. Craig can carry him downstairs. We’ll be ready when you are.”

Mrs. Craig ran downstairs and took her coat from the hall closet. She looked into the living room where the party was in full swing. After a minute she caught Jean’s eye.

“Jean,” she said softly, as her daughter came to the doorway. “Jack is sick, and Ted and I are going over to the clinic with him. Don’t tell the others. I don’t want to break up their fun. But you’ll have to manage without me.”

Jean gasped. “Oh, Mother! I’ll go over with you!” she cried.

“No, dear,” Mrs. Craig said firmly. “You stay with your guests. I’ll call you as soon as we know anything.”

Mr. Craig bundled Jack into the car, and Mrs. Craig and Ted started off with him toward town. Ted drove slowly, avoiding the bumps in the country road. Mrs. Craig supported Jack tenderly, trying to brace him against the swaying of the car. She noticed that Ted was scowling angrily, and she suddenly felt cold with fright. As if he could sense her terror, Ted reached over and patted her hand.

“I think everything’s going to be all right, Mrs. Craig,” he said reassuringly.

Dr. Barsch was at the desk when they came into the hospital. Ted exchanged a few words with him. The head doctor nodded gravely and came over to Mrs. Craig and the boy.

“So you’ve caught yourself a bug, Jack,” Dr. Barsch said. “Well, let’s get you upstairs, and Dr. Jenkins and I’ll go over you, and see just what is the matter. If Dr. Loring will take over at the desk, I’ll have an orderly take you right up.”

“May I go, too, Doctor?” Mrs. Craig asked.

Dr. Barsch hesitated, and then Mrs. Craig said, “No, I’ll wait here. I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry.”

Dr. Barsch nodded. “It’s all right, Mrs. Craig. I know you’re worried. I’ll let you see Jack as soon as I can.”

After the orderly had taken Jack upstairs, Ted sat down behind the desk facing Mrs. Craig, who paced nervously back and forth.

“Please sit down, Mrs. Craig,” he begged her. “You’ll just wear yourself out.”

Mrs. Craig smiled and sat down in an easy chair across the desk from Ted. “I must seem like a foolish mother hen,” she said apologetically.

Ted looked at her in wonder. “I wish there were more mothers in the world like you. Some of the mothers I’ve seen wouldn’t be this anxious about their own children, let alone an adopted son.”

Mrs. Craig thought a moment. “I wonder why people don’t understand,” she said softly. “Jack is every bit as much my own child as if I had given birth to him.”

Ted nodded. “Of course I’ve always thought of him as your own, because he’s been with you as long as I’ve known you. But I’ve often wondered, Mrs. Craig, why you and Mr. Craig adopted another child. I mean, when your family is as large as it is.”

Mrs. Craig smiled softly as she remembered Jack when he first came to her house. “We didn’t exactly adopt Jack. He adopted us. He turned up one day looking for work. When he was just a bit of a thing. His mother was dead. And his father!” she made a face as she remembered the distasteful man. “He was frightful! He dragged that mite of a child along with him on box cars! He ... he rode the rails, I think the expression is. And then he found that Jack was too much of a nuisance, thank God! And he dumped him off at Elmhurst.”

“You mean he ran away from his own son?”

Mrs. Craig nodded. “And so Jack came to us. Then, just about two years ago, his father turned up again. I suppose that was fortunate, too. He wanted Jack back. You see, Jack and Tommy make quite a bit of money from their chickens. So he wanted Jack’s money. Mr. Craig made a settlement with him, and he gave us permission to adopt Jack. So, you see, Jack is our very own child. And that dreadful man has no claim to him, whatsoever!”

Ted smiled. “Jack was lucky,” he said quietly.

“And so were we. I can’t imagine how, but that boy, brought up in filth and horrible conditions, was as fine a boy as you can imagine. Right from the very start. Oh, Ted, if anything happened to Jack, we’d be lost!”

Ted smiled again. “Nothing will happen, Mrs. Craig,” he reassured her.

“What ... what do you think it is?” she asked timidly.

Ted hesitated. “I don’t know, of course,” he said.

“You mean, you don’t want to tell me?” she asked.

He drew a long breath. “Very well,” he said. “I’m afraid it may be rheumatic fever.”

Mrs. Craig drew a long sigh of relief. “Oh, good heavens. And here I’ve been really worried. I was so afraid of polio. I know it isn’t the right season for polio, but you don’t know how a mother worries about such things!”

Ted ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t think you understand, Mrs. Craig. Do you know what rheumatic fever is?”

Mrs. Craig shook her head. “A sort of rheumatism, isn’t it? That would explain the aching and the tiredness and swelling of the joints.”

Ted sighed. “It’s a type of rheumatism, all right. But compared to rheumatic fever, polio is a pink tea party.”

Mrs. Craig gasped. “Oh, no!” she cried.

Ted drummed his fingers against the desk. “I don’t mean to under-rate the seriousness of polio. But almost always polio can be diagnosed ... at least the mother knows the child is really sick. But this mean villain of a germ which Jack may have is one of the slickest criminals of the medical world. Rheumatic fever doesn’t cripple outwardly ... doesn’t disfigure a person the way polio does. But it can cripple and kill.”

Mrs. Craig caught Ted’s hand. “Oh, Ted!” she cried.

Ted covered her hand with his. “Now, it’s not going to kill Jack. I can promise you that.” He ran his fingers through his hair again. “But you have no idea how many youngsters contract the disease and no one ever knows it.”

“How does it work, Ted?” she asked.

“It usually starts in the form of a strep throat. You remember you told me Jack had not one but two sore throats with his cold? Probably he caught the infection while his resistance was low from his cold. Then, after a while, the throat heals and the patient is presumably well. Only he doesn’t really feel good. He hasn’t much appetite. He’s listless. He aches in the joints. He isn’t exactly sick, but he isn’t well, either. Lots of people ignore these symptoms. So the strep then attacks the heart. If the patient is lucky, after that, he manages to fight off the infection, or arrest it, and survives with a badly damaged heart.”

Mrs. Craig covered her mouth with her hand. “And if the patient isn’t lucky?” she asked.

Ted shook his head. “Let’s not talk about it any more,” he said.

“You mean, he dies?”

Ted nodded. “But you must remember this. Jack doesn’t fit either case. Thanks to you, we’ve caught the villain. Jack’s going to have help in his fight.”

Dr. Jenkins came down into the lobby and nodded to them. “I think we’ve found the root of the trouble,” he said calmly.

Mrs. Craig shook her head as if to fight off a bad dream. “Dr. Jenkins,” she said slowly, “your specialty is heart trouble, isn’t it?”

Dr. Jenkins smiled. “Of course I’m just past my internship, Mrs. Craig. Someday I hope to be a heart specialist, though. But for right now, I’d like to call in a specialist from Boston. We want to be very sure to do exactly the right things.”

Ted looked at the other doctor. “I was right, Fred?” he asked.

Dr. Jenkins nodded. “And if Mrs. Craig wants to see Jack now....”

“Oh, please!” Mrs. Craig cried. “Ted, will you call Mr. Craig and tell him? But please don’t let him tell the girls till the party is over.”

Jack was lying flat on his back in a small single room near the pediatric ward. He managed a grin as Mrs. Craig came into the room.

“Jeepers, you should see all the things they did to me,” he said as gaily as he could. “Mother, it sorta makes a guy feel important with a couple of doctors fussing over him.”

Mrs. Craig knelt beside his bed. “All right, baby, everything is going to be fine.”

Jack grimaced. “I’m not a baby,” he protested weakly. “They gave me some aspirin and stuff. My head doesn’t ache so much. Hey, will you ask Tommy if he ever had a car—cardio—you know what I mean?”

“A cardiograph? I’m sure Tommy never had one. You’ll be able to tell him all about it in a few days,” Mrs. Craig smiled.

“They gave me a pill. I feel sorta dopey. But don’t hang around all night or anything, because I’m gonna be okay.”

Mrs. Craig caressed his forehead gently. “Of course you are, Jack.”

Jack dozed off. But as he relaxed, a spasm of pain hit him, and he cried, “Mother!” Too near to sleep to act like a man any longer, he whimpered like a young child. Mrs. Craig stroked his black hair tenderly.

Dr. Barsch appeared in the doorway. “I think he’s asleep, Mrs. Craig. If you want to stay here tonight, there is a room next to this one....”

“Is it all right if I stay right with him?” she asked. “I’m not very sleepy.”

Dr. Barsch came in and sat down beside the bed. “You’re a wonderful woman, Mrs. Craig,” he said softly. “This boy is so lucky. And what a boy he is! The exam we gave him wasn’t very pleasant for him. He’s in a lot of pain. But he joked and grinned and ...” he turned his head away a little. “I don’t know. Sometimes a youngster like this can make one proud to be part of the human race!”

3. Fresh as Paint!

Billy Ellis and Buzzy Hancock dashed up the driveway to the porch of the Craigs’ farmhouse. Tommy was sitting on the porch swing jotting down figures in his account book when his pals joined him. They jumped up on the porch, and Billy cuffed Buzzy playfully as they sat down on the swing.

“Hey, take it easy, you guys,” Tommy said. “I’m trying to add up my accounts. I want to give Jack an exact report of how much money we made while he was gone.”

Billy stretched his long legs out in front of him. His voice, which wavered between soprano and baritone, was full of sympathy as he said, “Jeepers, what a break! The poor little guy’s going to miss all the fun this summer.”

Tommy looked at his two closest pals. Billy, Judge Ellis’s son and Aunt Becky’s stepson, was a few months younger than he. Ever since the Craigs had come to Elmhurst, both Billy and Sally Hancock’s young brother, Buzzy, had been involved in every project Tommy and Jack had undertaken.

He shut his book. Stretching lazily, he said, “I guess it’s up to us to see he has as much fun as possible. It’s a real tough break for the ball team, though. I don’t know where we’re going to get a good shortstop now that Jack’s out for the season.”

“Can we see him soon?” Buzzy asked.

Tommy shook his head. “Mom says no company for a while. He’s coming home this afternoon, but you guys can’t see him for some time.”

Billy sighed. “Seems to me there isn’t any use in being sick. It isn’t any fun no matter which way you look at it. What’s the guy going to do with his time?”

“Oh, read, I guess. And study. He’s going to have a tutor, Mom said,” Tommy answered.

Buzzy whistled. “You mean he’s gotta have school work? Jeepers! That’s terrible!”

Tommy shrugged. “It would be worse if he had to stay back a term in school.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Buzzy said thoughtfully. “But about what we guys can do. You think about it, Tommy. Let us know, won’t you?”

Tommy stood up. “Will do,” he said. “And listen, you guys, one more thing. Mom said those letters you wrote were just about the nicest things you could have done for him. Keep it up, will you?”

Doris came out to the porch. “Tommy, have you seen Mother?” she asked.

“Sure. Mom’s upstairs getting ready to go over to get Jack. What’s up?”

“Where’s Dad?”

Tommy stared at her. “At the office, of course. Where else?”

Doris giggled at herself. “I guess I got so used to having Dad around the house that I forgot he does go to work regularly now.” She pulled a letter from her pocket. “It’s from Kit,” she told him.

“From Kit? Hey, let’s see it!” Tommy cried.

Doris put it back in her pocket. “It’s to Mother and Dad,” she said severely.

Tommy shrugged. “Come on, gang,” he cried. “Let’s get some cookies.”

The boys disappeared into the kitchen, and Doris went upstairs.

“Mother!” she called. “Letter from Kit!”

Mrs. Craig was putting on her hat when Doris came into her room. She smiled at her daughter and held out her hand. “Good news, I hope,” she smiled, taking the envelope.

“Kit’s news is always good,” Doris said. “College seems to agree with her.”

Mrs. Craig hastily scanned the note, nodding and then frowning as she read. “Kit has spring fever,” she decided as she folded the letter and slipped it back into the envelope. “Claims she’s bored with life.” She smiled to herself. “But after her trip to Washington, I think she’ll feel better.”

“What trip to Washington?” Doris asked.

Mrs. Craig grinned at the thought. “Kit has been elected president of the Hope College Historical Society, you know, dear. There’s a large history convention in Washington after classes let out in June. There will be girls and boys from all over the country.”

Doris grinned. “And of course there will be Frank Howard in Washington.”

Mrs. Craig sighed. “I think that’s what’s wrong with Kit. I think she misses Frank more than she will admit.”

Doris sat down on her mother’s bed. “Do you think Kit will marry Frank, Mother?”

“Good heavens!” Mrs. Craig exclaimed. “How should I know? They are very close friends ... and they have been for several years.”

“Ever since Kit caught Frank in the berry patches,” Doris giggled. It was typical of Kit that she should have trapped the bright young entomologist in an effort to catch a berry thief. A bantering friendship had grown out of this episode, and lately there had been sure signs that the friendship between Kit and Frank was ripening into affection.

Mrs. Craig powdered her nose. “Do you want to ride with me to the hospital, Doris?”

“Yes, I’d like to,” Doris said. “I want to talk to you about something, anyway.”

On the way over to the clinic, Doris said, “There’s a sort of contest at school, Mother. A music contest.”

Mrs. Craig smiled. “That’s nice, dear,” she said. “Are you going to enter it?”

Doris frowned slightly. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. It’s for a scholarship to a music school. I don’t know whether I want to try for it or not.”

Mrs. Craig stared at her. “But good heavens, why not? What school is it?”

“Timothy College in North Carolina. It’s very small—all music, you know. It’s awfully far away, too. And with Jean getting married and Kit away at school, well, I don’t know whether I want to leave home or not.”

Mrs. Craig slowed down the car. “Let’s talk about this with your father. But, dear, I think you should at least try out. It would be a shame to let your talent go to waste.”

Doris hesitated. Then she said, “But Mother, I don’t want to go away! I’m not like Jean and Kit. I’d just like to stay right here in Elmhurst forever and ever. I like it at home.”

Mrs. Craig tapped the steering wheel with her fingers. “Doris, I want you to enter that contest. Why shouldn’t you have the right to go away to school? We were able to send Jean to New York for a year of Art School,” she said, referring to Jean’s experiences which are recounted in Jean Craig in New York. “Then Kit won herself the chance to go to Hope College. Now, it’s your turn.”

“But Mother....” Doris began.

Mrs. Craig shook her head. “I don’t know very much about art or music, my dear,” she interrupted, “but your father and I have always felt that you were extremely talented. Frankly, I’ve always felt that you were the most talented of all my daughters. Jean is a good artist. Competent, I think she calls herself. But she has no illusions about being a great artist. I think perhaps you have the ability to develop into a fine musician.”

Doris shook her head. “Oh, golly,” she said, “I just don’t want to go through what Jean and Kit have gone through.”

“What do you mean?” Mrs. Craig asked, surprised.

“You know. You get yourself all ready to do something important in this life, and then you fall in love with some man and want to get married. Look how mixed up Jean was. And look at Kit now. She’s going to college and has even talked about doing graduate work. But you and I know she’s mad about Frank Howard and that she’ll probably just get married.”

Mrs. Craig repressed a smile. “Darling, you don’t just get married,” she said gently. “Both Jean and Kit are much better prepared to become good wives because they did develop their talents. I think you should do the same.”

Doris sighed. “Maybe so,” she agreed. “Oh, golly! I’m selfish! I know you’re worrying about Jack and his homecoming. It’ll be so good to have him home again!”

Jack was waiting when they arrived at the hospital. Jean and Sally Hancock were in his room gathering his few belongings. Mrs. Craig shook her head as she saw the thin, pale boy lying on the bed. His black eyes seemed even larger than usual, but they were no longer dull and glassy. They sparkled when they saw Mrs. Craig.

“Oh, Mother!” he cried. “I thought you’d never get here! Golly, but I’m tired of this room. Not that they haven’t been swell here, though. Dr. Jenkins and Dr. Caulfield from Boston have been here almost all the time. They talked a lot to me.”

“That’s fine, dear,” Mrs. Craig said briskly.

“But, gee, I sure missed Tommy. And the hens. Tommy doesn’t know how to keep track of all those hens. I ... I don’t know what he’s gonna do, now that I can’t help him.”

Jean patted Jack’s shoulder. “You’re learning young that no man is indispensable to his business.”

He looked up at her. “Huh?” he said.

They all laughed. “Jean means that business has to go on no matter what happens,” Mrs. Craig said, smiling. “And it usually does. Billy Ellis and Buzzy Hancock were over this morning. They want to see you as soon as you can have company.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jack said. “They wrote me. Jeepers, what a swell gang they are! Those dumb letters! They made me laugh till I hurt!”

Ted Loring brought in a wheel chair. “Here’s your chair, my lord,” he called from the doorway. “Oh, good morning, Mrs. Craig. You’re looking fine this morning. I’m going to ride over with you and help get our patient back to bed, if that’s all right with you.”

Mrs. Craig smiled. “That’s very thoughtful, Ted. Mr. Craig is in town this morning, and we could use a strong back.”

Ted grinned. “I heard about Mr. Craig’s new position. I think it’s swell. We need an architect around this town, although I sort of like these old New England designs.”

Mrs. Craig smiled. “He’s glad to be back at work, too.”

“I found out about it from Dr. Daley,” Ted explained. “I guess you know he kept a pretty close eye on Mr. Craig while he was working on the veterans’ houses. A nervous breakdown is nothing to fool around with. But Dr. Daley seems to think he’s now in fine shape.”

Jean tucked a robe around Jack’s legs as they started out of the room. “Take good care of him, Mother,” she said. “I’ll be home for dinner tonight, you know.”

Jean watched the small procession move slowly down the hall. Then she pulled her sketchbook from her pocket and began thumbing through it.

“Hi, gorgeous!”

Jean turned around to see Gerald Benson, the new intern, coming down the hall. “Oh, good morning, Dr. Benson,” she said. She started to pass him, but he blocked her path.

“I’ve just been having a lecture on the glories of one Miss Jean Craig,” Dr. Benson said. “They sure go for you around here.”

Jean stared at him in surprise. “Whatever are you talking about?”

He shrugged. “I was ambling through the lobby with Dr. Barsch this noon and just happened to comment on the painting over the mantel down there. And the good doctor ups and tells me that you did it!”

Jean giggled. “I’m afraid I did,” she admitted. “It’s not so glorious, though,” she added.

“It’s good enough. I didn’t know you were an artist.”

Jean smiled. “I’m not. Not really. I studied for a year in New York. And I like to paint for pleasure. As a matter of fact, I’m hoping to do something with my art work combined with medicine.”

Dr. Benson whistled. “You mean surgical art? That’s a tough field.”

Jean grinned. “I know it is. But Dr. Barsch has encouraged me to try my hand at it. I guess starting just about any time now, he’s going to give me practice sketching operations here. As a matter of fact, I was just going through my sketchbook. I’m working on anatomical drawings from books now so I’ll be better at doing real life sketches.”

Dr. Benson put his hands on his hips. “Did you donate that painting to the clinic as your contribution?”

Jean smiled again. “Well, not exactly,” she admitted. “You see, when the hospital first opened, Ted Loring and I had a long talk about clinics and things. And he gave me the idea, sort of. He said a clinic was a place where people exercised cooperation, ingenuity and hard work. So I put the idea down on canvas. You know, the man and woman and child joining hands in a field of grain. And then, of all things, Dr. Loring swiped it! He donated it!”

Dr. Benson smiled wryly. “It sounds like a motto he might make up.”

“What’s the matter with it?” Jean demanded.

“Let’s go out tonight, and I’ll tell you,” Dr. Benson said.

She smiled at him. “I’m sorry, Dr. Benson, but I can’t.”

“But you’re off tonight. I saw the schedules.”

Jean smiled. “But I thought you knew. I’m engaged. I’m not free to accept dates. I’m sure one of the other girls....”

“You mean you’re turning me down just because you’ve got a ring? I hear your man is in Europe. That’s pretty far away. And a pretty little girl like you shouldn’t be sitting home nights, just because—”

Jean brushed past him. “I’m sorry,” she said shortly.

Dr. Benson grabbed her arm. “Now wait, honey. Don’t get sore. I mean, what’s the harm? I’m not asking you to break your engagement. I just wanted to have some fun. You look as if you could use some yourself.”

Jean pulled free. “I’m sorry, Dr. Benson,” she said stiffly. “I’m very busy just now.”

The intern watched her walk down the hall. “Okay, sweetheart,” he said, “I’ll try again sometime. You’ll get lonely before too long.”

Jean marched into the students’ lounge and slammed the door behind her. Eileen Gordon was lying on the couch reading a magazine. She looked up as Jean came in.

“Why, Jean, what’s the matter?” she asked, looking at Jean’s angry face. “Didn’t Jack get off all right?” Eileen sat up and closed her magazine.

Jean sat down in an easy chair. “Oh, yes. Mother came for him just now. Ted was sweet. He went home with them to help her get Jack settled in bed at home.”

“Well, then, what’s wrong?” Eileen asked.

“Oh, nothing really, I guess. Only that new Dr. Benson asked me for a date.”

Eileen sniffed. “Oh, is that all?” she asked. “Well, don’t worry about it. He won’t ask you again.”

Jean stared at her. “Why?” she asked.

Eileen shrugged. “He asked me for a date when he first came here. I was busy and told him so, and he hasn’t bothered me since.”

Jean shook her head. “It’s the principle of the thing,” she said.

“Maybe he didn’t know you’re engaged.”

“He knew, all right. He knew that Ralph is abroad, too. He said I might be lonely.”

Eileen scowled. “So that’s the way he is! Well, that settles Dr. Benson as far as I’m concerned. So he’d try to steal someone’s girl when the someone isn’t around to fight for her.”

Jean laughed as she opened a coke. “Don’t be too hard on him. He wasn’t exactly trying to steal me. He just asked to take me out.”

Eileen grimaced. “I know the type. You know, Jean, I’ve been around hospitals a long time. And I’ve known a lot of doctors. They aren’t all like Ted and Dr. Barsch and the rest of them here. Sometimes they get pretty cynical. Yep, I know Dr. Benson’s type, all right!”

4. Emergency Operation

The following night Jean was on duty. She had just come up from early supper when she was called into Dr. Barsch’s office.

“Miss Craig,” Dr. Barsch said briskly, “I haven’t much time to explain, but if you will get your sketch pad, I want you to try to do a drawing of an operation I’m about to perform. The little DuPrez boy is coming in immediately. Acute appendicitis. Loring says we can’t wait. I’ve already called the staff.”