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"I managed to have a talk with his nurse when she went off duty this evening." "The nurse? I wonder you could get her to speak." "Luckily she's not the regular incumbent, but a volunteer who happened to be here on a visit. As it was, I had some difficulty in making her talk till I told her of Disbrow's letter." Mrs. Amherst lifted her bright glance from the needles. "He's very bad, then?"
You'll just bear in mind that it's Disbrow's business to report Dillon's case to Mrs. Westmore? You're to confine yourself to my message. Is that clear?" "Perfectly clear. Goodnight," Amherst answered, as he turned to follow Mrs. Truscomb. That same evening, four persons were seated under the bronze chandelier in the red satin drawing-room of the Westmore mansion.
"We make it worth Disbrow's while to do it. We go to him and say, 'Mr. Disbrow, you manage the politics for the Mojave railroad, and what you say goes with your Board of Directors. We want you to adopt our candidate for Railroad Commissioner for the third district. How much do you want for doing it? I KNOW we can buy Disbrow. That gives us one Commissioner. We need not bother about that any more.
Well, I won't go on to insinuate that, Truscomb being high in favour with the Westmores, and the Westmores having a lien on the hospital, Disbrow's position there is also bound up with his taking more or less the same view as Truscomb's." Miss Brent had paused abruptly on the deserted pavement. "No, don't go on if you want me to think well of you," she flashed out.
Amherst at once felt a change of atmosphere, and it was easy to guess that the lowering of temperature was due to Dr. Disbrow's recent visit. The thought roused the young man's combative instincts, and caused him to say, as Mr. Tredegar continued to survey him in silence from the depths of a capacious easy-chair: "I understood from Mrs. Westmore that she wished to see me this evening."
Disbrow told Truscomb this morning that Dillon's hand would certainly be saved, and that he might get back to work in a couple of months if the company would present him with an artificial finger or two." Miss Brent faced him with a flush of indignation. "Mr. Amherst who gave you this version of Dr. Disbrow's report?" "The manager himself." "Verbally?" "No he showed me Disbrow's letter."
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