Yet, to each prospective customer, the driver had shaken his head,
uttering the one word:
"Engaged."
So the cab still waited, the driver occasionally moving to a somewhat
new position, though always keeping well in sight of the hotel entrance.
As Captain Jack Benson stepped out through the broad doorway, however,
on his errand of friendship, the driver, throwing away a half-smoked
cigar, suddenly whipped up his horse, driving close to the entrance.
"Cab, sir" hailed the driver. "To any part of the city."
"You know where the hospital is?" inquired Jack Benson.
"Oh, yes."
"How long will it take to drive me there?"
"Ten or twelve minutes."
"All right. And I shall want you to wait there, a little while, and
then bring me back. How much will that be?"
"Dollar and a half, sir."
"Go ahead," directed Jack, springing inside and pulling the door shut.
The only time Benson had been to the hospital before was on the morning
of the accident.
At that time he had not noticed the road very closely. Now, at night,
all looked so different to him that he had no idea whether or not he was
being driven in the right direction.
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