, explaining that he had a headache. He awoke with a fever the
next morning. Alice, frightened by his haggard eyes, sent Po Lun for
a doctor.

CHAPTER LX

THE SHATTERED BUBBLE

Benito looked up from his pillows, tried to rise and found that he had
not the strength. Someone was holding his wrist. Oh, yes, Dr. Beverly
Cole. Behind him stood Alice and Robert.... How tall the boy looked
beside his little mother! They seemed to be tired, worried. And Alice
had tears in her eyes.

He heard the doctor's voice afar off, saying, "Yes, he'll live. The
danger's over--barring complications." Once more his senses
drifted, slept.

* * * * *

In the morning Po Lun brought a cup of broth and fed him with a spoon.

"Long time you been plenty sick," the Chinaman replied to his
interrogation.

"Where's Alice?"

"She go 'sleep 'bout daylight.... She plenty ti'ed. Ebely night she sit
up while you talk clazy talk."

"You mean I've been delirious, Po Lun?"

The Chinese nodded. "You get well now plitty soon," he said soothingly
and, with the empty cup, stole softly out. After a time Alice came,
rejoiced to find him awake. The boy, on his way to school, poked a
bright morning face in at the door and called out, "Hello, dad! Better,
ain't you?"

"Yes, Robert," said Benito. When the boy had gone he turned to Alice.
"How long have I been ill?"

"Less than a fortnight--though it seems an age." She took his hand and
cried a little. But they were happy tears. He stroked her hair with a
hand that seemed strangely heavy.

* * * * *

Three weeks later, hollow-eyed, a little shaky, but eager to be back at
work, Benito returned to his office. A press of work engaged him through
the morning hours. But at noon, he wandered out into the bright June
sunshine, walking about and greeting old friends. At the Russ House
Cafe, where he lunched, William Ralston greeted him cordially.

"How is the war going?" Windham asked. "I've been laid up for a
month--rather out of the running."

"Well, they're devilish hard fighters, those Confederates. And Lee's a
master strategist.... But we've the money, Windham. That's what counts.
The Union owes a lot to California and Nevada."

"Nevada!" with the word came sudden recollection. "That reminds me,
Ralston.... How are stocks?"

But the banker, with a muttered excuse hastened off.

Benito finished his coffee, smoked a cigarette and ma