"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!"