-looking. Dr. Harper was a benevolent-looking old
man, with a long white beard and a voice, as Josie afterwards described
it, like hot fudge. He always addressed everyone with some endearment
such as, "My dear child," "My son," "My dear girl," or "Little one."
Josie could hardly believe he was the same one who had written the
letter to Chester Hunt, a copy of which she had in her note hook.

"What a lot a long white heard can hide," was her thought after her
interview with the seemingly benevolent old gentleman.

Her job was secured. She was to look after those patients who were not
so very ill but were to be watched and whose every attempt to leave the
grounds must be frustrated.

"You are small, my child," Dr. Harper had said. "Are you strong enough
in case of--er--emergency to take a hand in controlling a patient?"

"I think so."

"Well, we can but try," purred the doctor. "Be gentle with them, my
dear child. Gentleness does more than violence. Many of them are not
difficult at all. Just be patient."

"Yes, sir." Josie then received instructions from a head nurse, who was
in reality a kind of matron. She was a hard-faced woman with a voice as
unrelenting as Dr. Harper's was soft. "I'd trust her sooner than I
would him," thought Josie.

"There is one patient here whose mind is cured, if there ever was
anything the matter with it," the nurse said. "She is trying to get
out, but her folks don't want her to yet. I guess they know their
business, but I'm not one to leave all to the folks unless I know them
mighty well."

"Which one is she?" asked Josie, her heart jumping with excitement.

"That delicate-looking lady over yonder, walking under the trees. She
walks all the time, back and forth, no matter how cold it is. We can
hardly keep her in the house. Her husband was killed during the war.
She is a nice lady and tries to buck up for her children's sake, she
says. Old Harper has it in for her because she uses her wits, but old
Harper is a terrible old person to boss."

Josie noticed that nobody had any respect for the head of the
institution. He was always spoken of as "Old Harper," or "The Old One,"
and one attendant who was a reader of Shakespeare always called him
"Grey Beard Loon." The morale of the place was low in consequence of
the lack of respect the employees felt for the head. Only the lowest
and most brutal types of nurses and servants were willing to remain for
any length of time at the sanitariu