Part 46

“It’s as near to the divine as any human can come,” returned the Health Master gently. “However, I think I can promise you that, if the twins and Bettykin haven’t been touched with the poison already, they shan’t get it from Charley. We’ll organize a defense—provided only the enemy hasn’t established itself already. Now the question is, where did the poison come from? We’ll have Junkum in and see if she can help us find out.” Julia, the more efficient of the eleven-year-old twins, a shrewd and observing youngster, resembling, in many respects, her grandmother, came at the doctor’s summons and was told what had befallen Charley.

“Oh!” said Junkum. Then, “Can I nurse him?”

“I should think not!” burst out her mother and grandmother in a breath.

“Later on you can help,” said Dr. Strong. “In fact, I shall probably need your help. Now, Junkum, you remember I told you children a month ago that there was scarlet fever about and warned you to guard your mouths and noses with special care. Can you recall whether Charley has been careless?”

Miss Julia took the matter under consideration. “We’ve all been, I guess,” she said. “Clara Wingate gave a party last week and there was bobbing for apples, and everybody had their faces in the same tub of water.”

“Yes; and Irving Wingate has since come down with scarlet fever,” added Mrs. Clyde.

“Enough said!” asserted the Health Master. “I can’t think of any better way to disseminate germs than an apple-bobbing contest. It beats even kissing games. Well, the mischief is done.”

“Then they’ll all have it,” said Mrs. Clyde miserably.

“Oh, let’s hope not. Nothing is more mysterious than the way contagion hits one and misses others. I should say there was at least an even chance of the rest escaping. But we must regard them as suspects, and report the house for quarantine.”

“Ugh!” shuddered Mrs. Clyde. “I hate that word. And think of my husband coming home to find a flaming red placard on the house!”

“We’ll give him warning before he leaves the factory. And now for our campaign. Item 1: a trained nurse. Item 2: a gas-range.”

“The trained nurse, certainly,” agreed Mrs. Clyde. “But why the gas-range? Isn’t Charley’s room warm enough?”

“Quite. The stove isn’t for warmth; it’s for safety. I’m going to establish a line of fire beyond which no contagion can pass. We’ll put the stove in the hall, and keep on it a tin boiler full of water just at the simmering point. Everything which Charley has used or touched must go into that or other boiling water as soon as it leaves the room: the plates he eats from, the utensils he uses; his handkerchiefs, night-clothes, towels—everything.”

“That will be a hard regimen to keep up,” Mrs. Clyde objected.

“Martial law,” said the Health Master positively. “From the moment the red placard goes up, we’re in a state of siege, and I’m in command. The rules of the camp will be simple but strict. Whoever violates any of them will be liable to imprisonment in the strictest quarantine. We’ll have a household conference to-night and go over the whole matter. Now I’m going to telephone the Health Department and ask Dr. Merritt to come up and quarantine us officially.”

“But what of Charley?” exclaimed Mrs. Clyde. “You’re not going to keep me away from my boy?”

“Not when you put it in that way and use that tone,” smiled Dr. Strong. “I probably couldn’t if I tried. Under official quarantine rules you’ll have to give up going anywhere outside the house. Under our local martial law you’re not to touch Charley or anything that he handles, nor to kiss the other children. And you’re to wash your hands every time you come out of the sick-room, though it’s only to step beyond the door.”

“It is an order,” said the mother gravely. “Will he be very ill, do you think?”

“So far the cases have been mild. His is likely to be, too. But it’s the most difficult kind of case to handle.”

“I don’t see that at all,” said Mrs. Sharpless.

“You will, when he becomes convalescent. Then is when my troubles will begin. For the present the bulk of the work inside the sick-room will be upon the trained nurse and Mrs. Clyde. I’ll have my troubles outside, watching the rest of the family.”

Not since Dr. Strong came to the Clydes’ as guardian of their health had there been an emergency meeting called of the Household Protective Association, as the Health Master termed the organization which he had formed (mainly for educative purposes) within the family. That evening he addressed a full session, including the servants, holding up before them the red placard which the Health Department had sent, and informing them of the quarantine.

“No school?” inquired the practical-minded Bobs, “Hooray!”

“No school for you children, until further notice,” confirmed the physician.

“And no business for me, I suppose,” said Mr. Clyde, frowning.

“Oh, yes. You can come and go as you please, so long as you keep away from Charley’s room. Every one is barred from Charley’s room until further instructions, except Mrs. Clyde; and she is confined within military bounds, consisting of the house and yard. And now for the most important thing—Rosie and Katie,”—the cook and the maid—“pay particular heed to this—nothing of any kind which comes from the sick-room is to be touched until it is disinfected, except under my supervision. When I’m not in the house, the nurse’s authority will be absolute. Now for the clinic; we’ll look over the throats of the whole crowd.”

Throat inspection appeared to be the Health Master’s favorite pursuit for the next few days.

“I don’t dare open my mouth,” protested Bobs, “for fear he’ll peek into it and find a spot.”