p the cliff road to The Dreamerie with bad news
for old Hector. Mrs. McKaye and the girls had retired but The Laird
was reading in the living-room when Daney entered unannounced.

Old Hector looked up at his general manager from under his white,
shaggy brow.

"Ye, Andrew," he saluted the latter gently, "I see by your face it's
not welcome news you bring. Out with it, man."

So Andrew came "out with it," omitting no detail, and at the
conclusion of his recital, the old man wagged his head to emphasize
his comprehension.

"My son is not a dull man by any means," he said presently. "He knows
what he knows--a man sure of himself always--and oh, Andrew man,
because of the brain of him and the sweet soul of him, it breaks my
heart to give pain to him. And what does the doctor say?"

"From a cursory examination he suspects typhoid fever."

"Ah, that's bad, bad, Andrew."

"The boy has the strength of a Hercules, sir. He'll beat through,
never fear."

"Well, he'll not die to-night, at any rate," old Hector answered, "and
I can do no good puttering round the hospital to-night. Neither would
I alarm his mother and the girls. Send for the best medical brains in
the country, Andrew, and don't quibble at the cost. Pay them what they
ask. 'Twill be cheap enough if they save him. Good-night, Andrew, and
thank you kindly." He stood up and laid his hand affectionately upon
the shoulder of his faithful servant and walked with him thus to the
door. "My good Andrew," he murmured, and propelled the general manager
gently outside, "there's no need to worry over the dismissal. When the
lad's well, he'll rescind his order, so, in the meantime, do not leave
us."

"But--if he shouldn't rescind it?" Daney pleaded anxiously. Although
he was comfortably fixed with this world's goods and had long since
ceased to work for monetary reward, the Tyee Lumber Company was,
nevertheless, part of his life, and to be dismissed from its service
was akin to having some very necessary part of him amputated.

"Tush, man; tush! Don't be building a mare's nest," old Hector
answered and closed the door upon him. For The Laird was losing
control of himself and he could not bear that any human eye should
gaze upon his weakness.

XXVIII

The morning following Donald's admittance to the hospital, the company
doctor confirmed his original diagnosis that the patient was suffering
from an attack of typhoid fever. The disease had evidently been two
w