“I will send word to your people as well as Mr. Cahoon's,” she added. “Try and sleep, if you can. Good night.” The door closed behind her. Sleep! I was not likely to sleep. A man who has lighted the fuse of the powder magazine beneath him does not sleep much. CHAPTER XXII And yet sleep I did, for a little while, just before morning broke. I had spent the night pacing the floor and talking to Phineas, who was wide awake and full of stories and jokes, to which I paid little attention. Miss Colton did not come to the library again. From the rooms above I heard occasional sobs and exclamations in Mrs. Colton's voice. Once Doctor Quimby peeped in. He looked anxious and weary. “Hello, Ros!” he hailed, “I heard you were here. This is a high old night, isn't it!” “How is he?” I asked. “About the same. No worse; in fact, he's better than he was a while ago. But he's not out of the woods yet, though I'm pretty hopeful, for the old boy has a husky constitution--considering the chances he's taken with it all his life. It's his wife that bothers me. She's worse than one of the plagues of Egypt. I've given her some sleeping powders now; they'll keep her quiet for a spell, I hope.” “And Miss Colton--how is she?” “She! She's as calm and sensible and helpful as a trained nurse. By the Almighty, she is a wonder, that girl! Well, I must get back on my job. Don't have a millionaire patient every day in the week.” At three o'clock came a message from Davis. He had not been able to secure a single share. Did his instructions to buy still hold? I answered that they did and he replied that he was going to get a nap for an hour or so. “I shall need the rest, if I am any prophet,” he concluded. It was shortly after this that I lay down on the couch. I had determined not to close my eyes, but I was utterly worn out, I suppose, and exhaustion got the better of me. The next thing I knew the gray light of dawn was streaming in at the library windows and Johnson was spreading a tempting-looking breakfast on the table. I sprang up. “What time is it?” I demanded. “About half-past five, sir, or thereabouts,” was the answer, in a tone of mingled weariness and resentment. Plainly Mr. Johnson had been up all night and considered himself imposed upon. I was thankful that my lapse from duty had been of no longer duration. It had been much too long as it was. “How is Mr. Colton?” I asked. “Better, sir, I believe. He is resting more quiet at present.” “Where is Cahoon?” “Here I be,” this from Phineas in the next room. “Have a good snooze, did you, Ros?” “Too good.” I walked in and found him still sitting by the telegraph instrument. “Has anything happened?” I asked. “Nary thing. All quiet as the tomb since that last message, the one you heard. Pretty nigh fell asleep myself, I did. Guess I should have, only Miss Colton she came in and kept me comp'ny for a spell.” “Miss Colton--has she been here? Why didn't you call me, Ros?”