“I b’lieve I’ll run up and get that ginger-bread receipt of Mis’ Moore’s.”  The nasal voice broke in rudely upon the wondering.

Mrs. Bean shook the threads from her apron, and turned towards the door.

“If the kids come in and want something to eat, before I get back,” she halted to say, “there’s cookies in that little stone pot in the cupboard.  Don’t let ’em have but two apiece.”

Wild thoughts, entirely foreign to Aunt Jane’s directions, were flashing through Polly’s mind.

If only there were time!  She could try it!  She must let Dr. Dudley and the others know!

“I shan’t be gone long,” her aunt was saying.  “You stick to your work!”

Polly waited only to hear her walk the length of the hall above, and a door open and shut.  The she cautiously stole out, and down the stairs, three long flights.  Not more than a block away she had noticed a grocery.  Groceries have telephones.  She would run down there, and call up the hospital!  At the outer door she paused an instant for one troubled look at her short skirt; but time was precious, and quickly she was speeding down the sidewalk.

“Hoh!  Look at her!” jeered a big boy from across the street.

She did not even glance his way.

“Have you a telephone?” was her breathless inquiry of a man at the entrance of the little shop.

A jerk of his fat thumb towards the dim interior was his only answer.

“Please, may I use it?”

He nodded indifferently, and then she was hurrying in the direction indicated.

The instrument was on the wall, and Polly on tiptoe could not reach the mouthpiece.  Looking around for a possible foot-stool, she spied a small box, which might have been used before for a similar service, and pulling it into position she found that it brought her to the proper height.  With a trembling hand she lifted the receiver from its hook.  She was familiar with the hospital number, and gave it without hesitation.

“Put in your nickel!” came distinctly to her ear.

Polly started in dismay.  This was a pay station!

“I—­have n’t any!” she faltered pathetically, and the merciless snap of the wire told her that her last hope had been cut off.

She pushed the box back where she had found it, and walked slowly out of the shop.  Her feet still lagged when she turned towards the tenement.  What mattered it if Aunt Jane should return and find her absent?  What mattered anything now?  Then came a sudden daring temptation.  The road was free—­and she was there!  Why not keep on to the hospital?  She looked down—­her skirts were inches above her knees!  If only Aunt Jane had not insisted that she wear Sophia’s petticoats, to match the length of the borrowed dress!  Could she brave the crowded streets in such attire?  One thought of those she loved best brought instant decision.  She could dare anything for their sakes.  With a shrinking, fast-beating heart.  She turned, and went quickly forward.