It was about seven o'clock that evening when Frank, wearing the smoked glasses, rang the bell at the front door of the Cliffside Sanitarium. He had hurried through the woods as fast as he could, munching on the way a sandwich he had made before leaving camp.
His ring was answered by a woman with iron-gray hair who inquired what he wanted. When he said he had come in answer to the advertisement, he was shown into a little room opening from the main hall, and told to wait until Dr. Hardman came.
"Guess the place is still open, or they wouldn't ask me in," thought Frank.
He had not been in the little room three minutes before he heard voices out in the hall. One was that of the woman who had admitted him. At the sound of the other he started.
"You'll find him in the small reception room, Dr. Hardman," the woman had said.
"Ah, yes, thank you Mrs. Robotham. I'll see him directly. I wish you'd look after ward six to-night. The regular nurse is away."
"That's the man who was at my uncle's house!" Frank thought, as he heard the doctor's voice. "That's the man who threatened me in the dark. I didn't recognize that name Hardman when I saw the advertisement, but he's the man the boys took to the woods. What shall I do? I must not tell my name, that's certain, and yet he may recognize me, from seeing me in the woods that day. But the glasses might puzzle him. It's a good thing I thought of them," and he felt to see if they were properly adjusted. He had no time to speculate further, for Dr. Hardman entered at that moment.
"So you've come to answer the advertisement," the man spoke in brisk tones. "Well, you're the first one. Help isn't as plentiful in this locality as I thought. Now we want a young man to make himself generally useful, to do as he's told, not to ask too many questions, and above all, not to talk, outside, of what he sees going on in here. For I may as well tell you, what you already know, I suppose, as everyone in this neighborhood does. This is a private lunatic asylum, and a sanitarium for the treatment of persons suffering from nervous ailments. We have only one or two violent patients, and they are looked after by special guards. Most of the men here are only mildly affected. Still, we do not like those employed here to form outside acquaintances, and if we engaged you you will have to submit to our rules."
"I will be willing to do that," Frank said, and he had great hopes of getting the place.
"I don't suppose you've had much experience in a place like this," Dr. Hardman went on. "We don't expect that. All you will have to do is to obey orders. The pay is ten dollars a week and board. Do you think you'd like it? You seem like a strong, smart young chap. Are your eyes weak? I presume they must be or you wouldn't wear smoked glasses. Never mind, that doesn't make any difference here."
"I think I would like it very much." Frank was wondering what to say when the doctor would ask his name. He was glad the physician had not recognized him. But he was somewhat in the shadow, and Dr. Hardman appeared to be thinking of almost anything or any one than the boy before him. Besides, Frank's hair had been cut short recently and that altered his looks somewhat.
"Very well, I think I'll give you a trial. We need someone right away. Can you begin work at once?" Dr. Hardman asked.
"Yes," replied Frank, much delighted that his plan was working so well.
"Very good. You can tell me something about yourself to-morrow, and furnish references I suppose. I see you have brought your valise with you. Your supply of clothing, I suppose?"
"Yes, I can stay here to-night."
"That's good. I'll not need to see much of you, as I am very busy. You'll be under the direction of Mrs. Robotham, my assistant. By the way, I presume you have no objection to being designated by a number?"
"By a number?" inquired Frank, somewhat puzzled.
"Yes. You see many of our patients have queer notions. Names are strange things to them. They often bring back painful memories. To avoid that we are all known by numbers here."
"I don't mind in the least." In fact Frank was glad. This might be the means of enabling him to keep his name hidden, and not necessitate him giving a false one, which he did not like to do, even to gain his ends.
"Very good, I'm number one, Mrs. Robotham is number two, and so on. You'll be number thirty-one."
"All right," Frank answered, and he was relieved when Dr. Hardman turned away, without seeking to question him further. Clearly the red-haired physician had not recognized the boy as the one who had followed him that night in the darkness from Mr. Dent's house, nor the one he had run from in the woods.
Mrs. Robotham came in at that juncture and, as he passed her in the doorway, Dr. Hardman announced that he had engaged the boy. He told his assistant to instruct Frank where to go and what to do.
"Come with me and I'll show you your room," said the woman, and Frank followed, wondering what he was going to do, now that he had the place at the sanitarium.
"Have you had supper?" asked Mrs. Robotham.
"Not very much," was the answer, as Frank thought of the sandwich in the woods.
"After you put your things away you can come down to the dining-room. Most of the nurses and attendants have finished, but there is plenty left."
"What are my duties?" asked Frank.
"I shall put you on corridor work. That is, you will walk up and down the corridors, and, if you hear any of the patients calling, or note any unusual noise, you are to ring the bell. I will show you about it."
After supper, which he ate alone in the big dining-room, Frank was taken upstairs by Mrs. Robotham, and instructed in his work. The sanitarium was a large one, and there were a number of corridors, from which opened the rooms of the patients.
"We have night and day shifts for this duty," Dr. Hardman's assistant explained, "but we are a little short-handed now, so you will have to work harder than usual. I am glad the doctor took you, as I have had to do some of this corridor work myself, and, with my other duties, it has made me quite played out. All you have to do is to walk around. I will give you a pair of felt slippers which you are to wear nights, as they make no noise. When you hear any unusual commotion in any of the rooms, go to the end of the corridor and press the push button the number of times to correspond with the number on the door of the room. Attendants will answer the bell, and do whatever is necessary. Do you think you understand it?"
Frank said he did, and, a little later, with his feet in a pair of soft slippers, which were rather large for him, he was patroling up and down the corridors.
"Well, this is getting into a lunatic asylum in a hurry," he thought as he walked along. "How strange it turned out! The mere chance of Mr. Armstrong giving me that paper this afternoon brings me here to-night. I wonder if I can do what I set out to do? First I must find out which is his room. That I can't do until I see him again, for if I make inquiries of any of the attendants they will get suspicious and tell Dr. Hardman, and then I'll have to leave."
For an hour or more Frank walked up and down the corridors. He had three for which he was responsible. It was rather monotonous work, even though now and then nurses and attendants passed through. He was beginning to feel sleepy, and decided that a drink of ice water would rouse him. He walked to the end of the long hall to where the cooler stood. As he was passing room twenty-seven he heard a great racket within. It sounded as though the inmate had knocked over the table and chairs. At the same time, from the apartment, came the sound of a voice, pitched high in anger.
"There, knave! I have slain you at last!" was shouted in a man's voice. "Now, villains, do your worst! Ah! There is yet another scoundrel to slay!"
The noise of breaking wood increased, and Frank, in great alarm, ran to the push button and rang the signal, two strokes followed after a pause by seven others.
The noise of attendants, approaching on the run, could be heard. Frank hurried back to the room whence the noise was still coming. As he passed the apartment next to it, number twenty-eight, a man's head was thrust from the opened door. At the sight of it Frank could not repress an exclamation of astonishment. It was the man he wanted to find; the man with whom he had talked in the summer house. At the same instant the man recognized the boy, but, with a motion of his fingers to his lips, to enjoin silence, he shut the door of his room, and Frank heard the key turn in the lock.
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