Fergus looked around at him, and said nothing at all. Nort walked over to the stone, took up a stickful of type, and began to distribute it in the cases. Presently he looked around at Fergus with a broad smile on his face. "Fergus, where's the fatted calf?" "Humph!" remarked Fergus. When Nort got down for another take of the type, Fergus observed to the general atmosphere: "The old engine's out of order." Nort stepped impulsively toward Fergus's case, and said with wistful affection in his voice: "I knew, Fergus, that you'd kill the fatted calf for me!" "Humph!" observed Fergus. And that was why I found Nort bending over the engine when I came in, whistling quite in his old way. The moment he saw me, he forestalled any remark by inquiring: "How's the Cap'n to-day?" Anthy did not come to the office at all that morning, and toward noon I saw Nort rummaging among the exchanges and, having found what he wanted, he put on his hat and went out. He walked straight up the street to the homestead of the Doanes--his legs shaking under him. At the gate he paused and looked up, seriously considered running away, and went in and knocked at the door. By some fortunate circumstance Anthy had seen him at the gate, and now came to the door quite calmly. "How's the Captain?" asked Nort, controlling his voice with difficulty. "David wrote me that he was sick. I thought I might cheer him up." "Won't you come in?" At that moment the old Captain's voice was heard from upstairs, booming vigorously: "Is that Nort? Come up, Nort!" Anthy smiled. She was now perfectly self-possessed, and it was Nort, the assured, the self-confident, who had become hopelessly awkward and uncertain. "Come up, Nort!" called the old Captain. When he entered the bedroom, the old Captain was propped up on the pillows, his thick white hair brushed back from his noble head. He was evidently very much better. "Captain," said Nort, instantly, before the old Captain had a moment to express his surprise, "have you seen the Sterling _Democrat_ this week?" "No," said the Captain, starting up in bed. "What's that man Kendrick been doing now?" "Listen to this," said Nort, pulling the paper out of his pocket and opening it with a vast simulation of excitement, and reading the heading aloud: "_Where was Captain Doane when the flying-machine visited Hempfield?_" "Why, the scoundrel!" exclaimed the old Captain, this time sitting straight up in bed, "the arrant scoundrel!" As Nort read the paragraph the old Captain sank back on the pillows, and when it was over he remarked in a tone of broad tolerance: "Nort, what can you expect of a Democrat, anyway?" He lay musing for a minute or two, and then called out in a loud voice: "Anthy, I'm going to get up." The old war horse had sniffed the breeze of battle. When Nort went out, he saw nothing of Anthy.