Porter protested all the morning that he would go to his office after luncheon, but the temperature line on the nurse's chart climbed steadily upward. He resented the tyranny of the nurse, who moved about the room with an air of having been there always, and he was impatient under the efforts of Evelyn to soothe him. The doctor came again at noon. He was of Porter's age and an old friend; he dealt frankly with his patient now. Evelyn stood by and listened, adding her own words of pleading and cheer; and while the doctor gave instructions to the nurse outside, he relaxed, and let her smooth his pillow and bathe his hot brow. "This may be my turn--" he began. "Not by any manner of means, father," she broke in with a lightness she did not feel. It moved her greatly to see his weakness. "It's an unfortunate time," he said, "and there's something you must do for me. I've got to see Wheaton or Fenton. It's very important." "But you mustn't, father; business can wait until you're well again. It will be only a few days--" "You mustn't question what I ask," he went on very steadily. "It's of great importance," and she knew that he meant it. "Can't I see them for you?" she asked. He turned his slight lean body under the covers, and shook his head helplessly on his pillow. "You see you can't talk, father," she said very gently. "Is there anything I can say to them for you?" "Yes," he said weakly, "I want you to give the key to one of my boxes to Wheaton. Tell him to take out a package--marked Traction--and give it to Fenton." Evelyn brought his key ring and he pointed out the key and watched her slip it from the ring. "I'll send for Mr. Wheaton at once," she said. "Don't worry any more about it, father." "Evelyn!" She had started for the door, but now hurried back to him. "Don't tell him anything over the telephone; just ask him to come up." She went out at once that he might be assured, and he turned wearily on his pillow and slept. Porter's illness was proclaimed in the first editions of the afternoon papers, which Wheaton saw at his desk. News gains force by publication, and when he read the printed statement that the president of the Clarkson National Bank was confined to his house by illness, he felt that Porter must really be very sick; and he naturally turned the fact over in his mind to see how this might affect him. The directors came in and sat about in the directors' room with their hats on, and Wingate, the starch manufacturer, who had seen Porter's doctor, pronounced the president a very sick man and suggested that Thompson, the invalid vice-president, ought to be notified. The others acquiesced, and they prepared a telegram to Thompson at Phoenix, suggesting his immediate return, if possible.