"By Jove, Kennedy, you were
right," I exclaimed. "If there is anything in this germ-plot idea
of hers it is indeed the height of the dramatic--it is
diabolical. No ordinary mortal would ever be capable of it."
Just then the head nurse came in, a large woman breathing of
germlessness and cheerfulness in her spotless uniform. We were
shown every courtesy. There was, in fact, nothing to conceal. The
visit set at rest my last suspicion that perhaps Jim Bisbee had
been poisoned by a drug. The charts of his temperature and the
sincerity of the nurse were absolutely convincing. It had really
been typhoid, and there was nothing to be gained by pursuing that
inquiry further.
Back at the apartment, Craig began packing his suitcase with the
few things he would need for a journey. "I'm going out to Bisbee
Hall to-morrow for a few days, Walter, and if you could find it
convenient to come along I should like to have your assistance."
"To tell you the truth, Craig, I am afraid to go," I said.
"You needn't be. I'm going down to the army post on Governor's
Island first to be vaccinated against typhoid. Then I am going to
wait a few hours till it takes effect before going. It's the only
place in the city where one can be inoculated against it, so far
as I know. While three inoculations are really best, I understand
that one is sufficient for ordinary protection, and that is all
we shall need, if any.
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