Duskin (Musaicum Romance Classics). Grace Livingston Hill

all right, Mr. Fawcett,” he said in his cool voice. “Steady, there, steady! I wouldn’t sign any letters just now. Let them wait a bit till I see what you’ve done to yourself.”

      “But I’ve got to!” demanded Fawcett excitedly, trying to raise his head and failing miserably. “I’m going to leave on the six o’clock train, and those letters must be signed!”

      “Steady there, my dear fellow! There’s plenty of time. And you’re not going to leave on any train, not today. I’m sorry, but you’ve got a little vacation coming to you, friend, and I’m afraid you’ve got to take it in bed this time.”

      “But I can’t, Doctor, I tell you I can’t! I’m in a position of trust, you know; this whole company depends on me, and it will mean heavy loss irretrievable loss if I don’t go at once and straighten things out.”

      “I’m sorry, old fellow, but I’ll have to tell you the truth. You’ve broken the fibula near your knee and you’re very badly bruised, perhaps internally. It might mean the loss of your leg if you attempted to take a journey now, even if it were possible for you to get around on it.”

      “Then I can get a wooden leg!” snapped Fawcett impatiently. “Leg or no leg, I’ve got to go.”

      “It might even mean the loss of your life, Fawcett,” said the doctor more gravely now.

      “Then at least I’d die honorably. Let me up! There are no bones broken. I know. I stood up by myself for a whole minute after the car was righted. I couldn’t have done that if my leg was broken. I’m going to get up right now. Please, all of you get out of my office; I’ve got work to do! Miss Berkley, have you brought those letters?”

      He attempted to sit up and sank back suddenly with a moan. The doctor laid a firm hand on his patient.

      “Now see here, sir!” he said in a tone which people did not lightly disobey. “I’m in command here. You’re my patient and I’m going to be obeyed. Miss Berkley, will you telephone Mrs. Fawcett? This man should be in the hospital right now. He’ll be getting a fever.”

      “No! No! Don’t call my wife!” said Fawcett weakly. “I tell you I’ve got to go! The devil will be to pay it is now somebody’s got to get out there and stop it. Nobody else understands it.”

      “That’s all right!” soothed the doctor, taking out a little vial and dropping some dark liquid into the glass of water that Carol brought. “I guess we’ll find somebody else to send. You can give them careful directions. We’ll see that everything is attended to all right, my dear fellow. There’ll be somebody ”

      “There’s nobody!” thundered the injured man. “Nobody knows anything about it but myself! Miss Berkley, you tell him. Make him understand that it is imperative for me to go. Tell him nobody knows the situation.”

      “Oh, you can easily explain the situation,” said the doctor lightly. “I’m sure I can find a dozen people willing to help you out just now, and when you get nicely settled in the hospital and feeling comfortable and have had a little nap and a little nourishment you can have a brief talk and give all directions.”

      “But I don’t want anybody to know. I couldn’t possibly explain the situation Oh h h!”

      The helpless, angry tears were beginning to course down the strong old bear’s cheeks. He was actually looking at his pretty, young secretary as if he was a troubled little boy and Carol Berkley was his mother.

      What was it in his look that suddenly made summer breezes and rocks and sand and excellent hotels recede entirely from the picture and gave Carol Berkley strength for a sudden resolve? Something in the pleading, angry eyes of her impatient old tyrant had actually tugged at her heartstrings or was it that she was possessed of knowledge that he did not have and which would have made him all the more troubled and anxious to go himself? She did not stop to consider. She stepped forward.

      “Mr. Fawcett,” she said in a cool little voice that surprised herself, for every nerve was throbbing with a particular jangle of its own and her head felt light and whirly, “Mr. Fawcett I know all about things! Couldn’t I go out there and do what you want done? I think I understand everything.”

      He turned from his boyish tears and became a man again, a bitter, old, cross tyrant.

      “You!” he said, contemptuously. “How could a woman possibly do what I have to do?”

      Carol laughed.

      “I’ll go,” she said, still calmly. “I think I know what’s to be done. If I can’t make that man hurry up and do his work in time, I’ll fire him and get another engineer.”

      He stared at her blankly, the actual practicality of her words bringing him to see that she was not altogether devoid of sense.

      “But we have a contract with him ” he objected, his brow drawing again into its accustomed frown.

      “I know,” she said, “but if he hasn’t kept his part of that ”

      A twinge of pain brought a sudden ghastly whiteness.

      “Now, look here,” said the doctor fiercely, “this thing has to stop! Whether this young woman goes or whether she doesn’t go doesn’t matter to me. This man has got to get quiet or he’ll have a fever before I can do anything for him. Young woman, if there’s anything you think ought to be done, do it, and say no more about it. Get ready to go, and when Mr. Fawcett feels better perhaps he can talk with you for five minutes”

      “Oh,” broke in the impatient patient, “I’ve got to go myself!”

      “Now look here, Caleb,” broke in a calm, commanding voice, as Mrs. Fawcett suddenly loomed up beside the couch, a comfortably stout little woman with a face that had been pretty once and a mouth grown gentle by long practice of living with a pettish tyrant, “you know that’s nonsense. You know you’re not fit to go anywhere, and what’s the use of pretending any longer that you are? You’ve got to the point at last where you have to lie still and take orders, and you might as well do it pleasantly. Doctor, what hospital is it you want him to go to?”

      Like magic, things fell into order. The quiet, stout little woman with the placid mouth took command, and Caleb like a lamb protested no more.

      When the doctor had completed his examination and given his verdict, Carol was called once more to the couch to confer with her boss. Before she came, however, she beckoned to the doctor and asked him a question privately.

      “Doctor, something has come to my knowledge since Mr. Fawcett left the office this morning which quite materially changes some aspects of the business. Would it be right to tell him this? Or mustn’t he be disturbed?”

      “Are they of a disturbing nature?”

      “I’m afraid they are.” Carol looked troubled.

      “Is there anybody else in the firm in whom you could confide?”

      “Only Mr. Edgar Fawcett, his brother, and he is in Europe this summer.”

      “Do you think you could cope with the situation yourself? Do you know all there is to know about it?”

      “I think so… .” Carol hesitated. “I’ve written all the letters; still, there will be great loss to the business involved if ”

      “The business be hanged! Excuse me, Miss Berkley, but my patient has had a great shock. I doubt if the fracture he has sustained is the worst of his troubles. If he has anything more to worry about than he has now I can’t answer for his life. You’ll have to do the best you can and let it go at that. But mind you, you make him think everything’s going fine!”

      “But those letters ” Fawcett was protesting faintly as Carol came back to the office. “They’ve got to be signed!”

      “That’s all right,” said Carol brightly. “I’ll type them all with the company’s signature and put your name under, as president. I’ll fix