“I want to see Maister Baarkloo,” drawled the Swede.
“He is very sick with the peste, I do not believe that he is able to see any one,” spoke up Segwuna.
“I haf sam lettar for heem, aand I give to heem—nobodday alse. I keep not mysalf,” argued the Swede doggedly, as he started to come in.
Segwuna stood in the doorway attempting to block his passage, but the Swede brushed her to one side and went straight for Barclugh’s room, and Segwuna followed closely after him.
When the Swede reached the door of the sick man’s room, he raised his hat and tiptoed up to the bedside of Barclugh.
As he stood beside the bed he drew out of his pocket a long sealed envelope, addressed:
“Mr. Gustavus,
“Philadelphia.“From John Anderson, Esq., Merchant.”
The Swede hesitatingly looked at Barclugh and saw him lying there and staring with a glassy look in his eyes, unable to speak or to recognize the Swede.
The fisherman turned stolidly to Segwuna as he said: