There was an anxious look in the young man's face as he moved about, and it soon vented itself in a brief soliloquy.
"This man knows all about the past," he whispered to himself. "He knew my father, and he knows uncle Felix, I must help him to recover and, there----" he rubbed his hand over his forehead; "If I only knew the truth!"
He noticed that the brow of the miser gradually grew hotter, and that the man's restlessness increased every moment.
"I don't know of anything else I can do," said Mont to himself. "I hope Jack will hurry back with the doctor."
It was not long before Max Pooler was tossing from side to side.
"My gold and silver," murmured the feverish miser. "My shining gold and silver! You shan't take it away! It's mine. Ask Felix Gray if it ain't."
Mont started.
"What did you say?" he asked bending low over the tossing form.
"Water, water!" moaned Pooler, paying no attention to the question. "Give me a drink of water, I'm burning up!"
Mont took up the pitcher which Meg had filled at the spring, and held it to his lips. The miser took one sip, and then pushed it from him.