Free The Magic Meadow by Alexander Key Page A

molasses, and he could have eaten more, but he quickly squelched his appetite when he realized how little food there was for six people.
    In spite of being rested, it seemed to take a lot more effort to get away this time, possibly because he hated so much to leave. The last thing he heard was Charlie Pill in the next bunk, for in the past few minutes Charlie had begun to mutter to himself with rising fever. Then abruptly everything faded.
    He landed with a crash in the cold dark of Belleview.
    Brick was too dazed for a while to comprehend what had happened. Though he remained conscious, it seemed that he kept sliding away to the edge of blackness, then pain would jerk him back—pain in his head, in his back, in his elbows. Finally the blackness receded, and the pain in his head settled down to a throbbing ache. The rest of him hurt whenever he tried to move.
    Gradually it came to him that he was lying on Ward Nine’s hard cement floor. He hadn’t missed his bed, for there were no beds left in the ward—he could tell that by the vague light that came through the windows and through the open door to the corridor. He had, he reasoned finally, arrived at the exact spot where his bed had been, and from there he’d dropped to the floor.
    Slowly, carefully, he forced himself to sit up. Nothing seemed to be broken—except possibly his head. That ached like fury. Then he realized this was no time to be worrying about his hurts. He had come here to find the lost bag, and he’d better get it and leave as soon as possible.
    The bag wasn’t in Ward Nine. Even in the near-dark he could tell that. Since he’d been here last, twelve or more hours ago, everything in the ward had been removed except for the old clock between the windows.
    He was almost certain the bag had been left near his bed. Then the men who had taken everything out must have moved it. What would they have done with it?
    Brick put his hands to his throbbing head and tried to think. By this time, he remembered, all the patients in Belleview were supposed to have been carted away to the new hospital. But would they have hauled off the old beds and equipment at the same time?
    He tried to stand up, failed, then began crawling doggedly toward the corridor.
    At the doorway he stopped and peered worriedly about while he listened. It was dark to the left, but a light was burning near the turn on the right where the service rooms and the elevator were located. The building had the feel of emptiness, but he could hear slow footsteps somewhere in the distance. They seemed to be going away.
    Then he caught his breath as he made out the cabinets and the dismantled beds that had been taken from Ward Nine. They were stacked at the turn of the corridor, ready to be carried down in the elevator in the morning. Surely the lost bag would be somewhere near.
    In his eagerness he got to his feet and went reeling down the corridor, one hand touching the wall for support. He was almost at the stacked equipment when he lost his balance. He reached out wildly and clutched the nearest thing within reach, which happened to be the head of one of the beds. Several others were leaning against it, and the rollers were still on them. His weight was enough to send them moving out from the wall, and suddenly they fell down with a resounding bang and clatter that seemed loud enough to have been heard all over that part of the city.
    Brick fell with them, and was lucky enough to go down on top of the heap without getting his arms caught between the pieces. Even so, he was so badly shaken that for long seconds he could not find the will to move.
    He was aroused by a man’s voice shouting, “Hey, Mike! What’s going on up there?”
    The sound of rapid footsteps in the opposite direction jerked Brick to his feet again. He tottered to the nearest door, knowing he had to find a hiding place, and quickly. The door was locked. Desperately he forced himself across