"In looking up, Hiram, don't forget, since it is twelve-thirty, that we have swung around four hundred and eighty miles from the spot you originally designated as the location of the Pearly Gates."
"Oh, sir, I beg of you," remonstrated the servant, "I cannot bear to have you jest on such a—why, master!" he broke off with a little cry, rushing to his bedside.
The quizzical smile on the banker's face had suddenly faded, and his head had fallen feebly back upon the pillow.
"Oh, why did he waste his strength so?" cried Biggs, piteously, as with trembling hands and tear-blurred eyes he searched the little table for the smelling-salts.
After a few breaths, the patient sighed and opened his eyes wearily.
"My medicine, Hiram, and then I must rest."
At midnight, Biggs, dozing in a big chair by the fire, was aroused by a voice from the sick bed.
"Hiram."
"Yes, sir," scurrying to turn on a subdued light.