"Very bad indeed, sir. Miss Mabel wished me to say that she could not leave him an instant. It is the crisis, the doctor thinks."

There were two crises then, one on each floor of the big house. At one Davis himself 'phoned.

"Still hanging around 700," he announced. "Begins to look as if the top had been reached. What shall I do now?"

My plan was ready and I gave my orders as if I had been doing such things for years.

"Sell, in small lots, at intervals," I told him. "Then, if the price breaks, begin buying through another broker as cautiously as you can."

The answer was in a different tone; there was a new note, almost of hope, in it.

"By the Lord, I believe you have got it!" he cried. "It may work. I'll report to you, Mr. Colton, right away."

Plainly he had no doubt that "Big Jim" was directing the fight in person. Far was it from me to undeceive him!

Another interval. Then he reported a drop of a hundred points.

"The bottom is beginning to fall out, I honestly believe. They think you've done 'em again. I am spreading the report that you have the control cinched. As soon as the scramble is really on I'll have a half dozen brokers buying for us."

It was half-past two when the next message came. It was exultant, triumphant.

"Down like an avalanche. Am grabbing every share offered. We've got 'em, sure!"

And, as three o'clock struck, came the final crow.

"Hooray for our side! They're dead and buried! You have two hundred shares more than fifty per cent, of the common stock. The Louisville road is in your pocket, Mr. Colton. I congratulate you. Might have known they couldn't lick the old man. You are a wonder. I'll write full particulars and then I am going home and to bed. I'm dead. I didn't believe you could do it! How did you?"

I sat there, staring at the 'phone. Then, all at once, I began to laugh, weakly and hysterically, but to laugh, nevertheless.

"I--I organized a Development Company," I gasped. "Good night."

I rose from the chair and walked out into the library. I was so completely fagged out by the strain I had been under that I staggered as I walked. The library door opened and Johnson came in. He was beaming, actually beaming with joy.

"He's very much better, sir," he cried. "He's conscious and the doctor says he considers 'im out of danger now. Miss Mabel sent word she would be down in a short while. She can't leave the mistress immediate, but she'll be down soon, sir."

I looked at him in a dazed way. "Tell Miss Colton that I am very glad, Johnson," I said. "And tell her, too, that everything here is satisfactory also. Tell her that Mr. Paine says her father has his control."

"'His control!' And what may that be, if you please, sir?"

"She will understand. Say that everything is all right, we have won and that Mr. Colton has his control. Don't forget."

"And--and where will you be, sir?"

"I am going home, I think. I am going home and--to bed."

CHAPTER XXIII

The next thing I remember with any distinctness is Dorinda's knocking at my bedroom door. I remember reaching that bedroom, of course, and of meeting Lute in the kitchen and telling him that I was not to be disturbed, that I should not come down to supper and that I wanted to be let alone--to be let ALONE--until I saw fit to show myself. But these memories are all foggy and mixed with dreams and nightmares. As I say, the next thing that I remember distinctly after staggering from the Colton library is Dorinda's knocking at the door of my bedroom.

"Ros! Roscoe!" she was calling. "Can you get up now? There is somebody downstairs waitin' to see you."

I turned over in bed and began to collect my senses.

"What time is it, Dorinda?" I asked, drowsily.

"About ten, or a little after."

Ten! Then I had not slept so long, after all. It was nearly four when I went to bed and . . . But what made the room so light? There was no lamp. And the windows . . . I sat up.

"You don't mean to tell me it is ten o'clock IN THE FORENOON!" I cried.

"Um-hm. I hated to disturb you. You've been sleepin' like the everlastin' hills and I knew you must be completely wore out. But I felt pretty sartin you'd want to see the--who 'tis that here's to see you, so I decided to wake you up."

"It is high time you did, I should think! I'll be down in a minute. Who is it that wishes to see me, Dorinda?"

But Dorinda had gone. I dressed hurriedly and descended the stairs to the dining-room. There, seated in a chair by the door, his eyes closed, his chin resting upon his chest, and his aristocratic nose proclaiming the fact that he slumbered, was Johnson, the Colton butler. I was not greatly surprised. I had rather suspected that my caller might be he, or some other messenger from the big house.

He started at the sound of my entrance and awoke.

"I--I beg your pardon, sir," he stammered. "I--I beg your pardon, sir, I'm sure. I've been--I 'aven't closed my eyes for the past two nights, sir, and I am tired out. Mr. Colton wishes to see you at once, sir. He wishes you to come over immediately."

I was surprised now. "MR. Colton wishes it," I repeated. "You mean Miss Colton, don't you, Johnson."

"No, sir. It is Mr. Colton this time, sir. Miss Colton is out in the motor, sir."

"But Mr. Colton is too ill to see me, or anyone else."

"No, sir, he isn't. He's very much better. He's quite himself, sir, really. And he is very anxious to see you. On a matter of business, he says."

I hesitated. I had expected this, though not so soon. He wanted to ask questions concerning my crazy dip into his financial affairs, doubtless.

Well, I should have to see him some time or other, and it might as well be now.

I called to Dorinda, who was in the kitchen, and bade her tell Mother, if she inquired for me, that I had gone out, but would be back soon.

Then Johnson and I walked briskly along the bluff path. We entered the big house.

"Mr. Colton is in his room, sir," explained the butler. "You are to see him there. This way, sir."

But before we reached the foot of the stairs Doctor Quimby came out of the library. He and I shook hands. The doctor was a happy man.

"Well!" he exclaimed, "what's the matter with the one-horse, country-jay doctor now, hey! If there is any one of the Boston specialists at a hundred a visit who can yank a man out of a serious sickness and put him on his feet quicker than I can, why trot him along, that's all! I want to see him! I've been throwing bouquets at myself for the last ten hours. Ho! ho! Say, Ros, you'll think my head is swelled pretty bad, won't you! Ho! ho!"

I asked how the patient was getting on.

"Fine! Tip-top! The only trouble is that he ought to keep perfectly quiet and not do a thing or think of a thing, except getting his strength back, for the next week. But he hadn't been conscious more than a couple of hours before he was asking questions about business and so on. He and his daughter had a long confab this morning and after that he was neither to bind or tie. He must see you, that's all there was to it. Say, Ros, what did you and Phin Cahoon and the Colton girl do yesterday?"