rket's fever was not
contagious--at least I had not contracted the disease--and sent him
out to sweep the front steps. As soon as he had gone I opened the safe,
found, to my joy, that we had an abundance of currency on hand, cashed
the Colton check and locked it securely in the drawer of my own desk. So
far I was safe. Now to secure George's safety.

He came in soon after, looking as if, as he had told me, he had not
slept for years. He bade Sam good morning and then walked over to my
side.

"Well, Ros?" he asked, laying a shaking hand on the desk beside me.

"Not here, George," I whispered. "Come into the directors' room."

I led the way and he followed me. I closed the door behind us, took the
thirty-five hundred dollars in notes from my pocket and laid them on the
table.

"There's the money, George," I said. "Now you've got just time enough to
catch that nine o'clock train for Boston."

I thought, for a moment, he was going to collapse altogether. Then he
pounced upon the money, counted it with fingers that trembled so he
could scarcely control them, and turned to me.

"Ros--Ros--" he stammered. "Where did you--how did you--Great God, man!
I--I--"

"There! there!" I interrupted. "I told you I wasn't a pauper exactly.
Put that where you won't lose it and clear out. You haven't any time to
argue."

"But--but, Ros, I hadn't ought to take this from you. I don't see where
you got it and--"

"That's my business. Will you go?"

"I don't know as I ever can pay you. Lord knows I'll try all my life,
but--"

I seized his arm. "George," I urged, impatiently, "you fool, don't waste
time. Get that train, do you hear! Those bonds must be in that safe by
night. Go!"

The mention of the bonds did what my urging had failed to do. He crammed
the bills into his pocket book, thrust the latter into an inside pocket,
and rushed from the room. I followed him as far as the outer door. He
was running up the road like a wild man. Sam stared after him.

"For mercy sakes!" he cried, "what's the matter with the boss? Has he
gone loony?"

"No," I said, turning back to my desk; "he's sane enough, I guess. He's
after the train."

"I should think he was after somethin'. Did you see the face he had on
him? If he ain't crazy then you and I are, that's all I've got to say."

"All right, Sam," I answered, drawing a long breath, "perhaps that's it.
Perhaps you and I are the crazy ones--one of us, at any rate."

All that day I work