"I'll promise anything you like," said Nap, a shade of weariness in his voice. "I'm going up to town to-morrow, and I never sleep there so I reckon this is my last chance for some time to come."
"Are you trying to kill yourself?" asked Capper abruptly.
But Nap only threw up his head and laughed. "If that were my object I'd take a shorter cut than this. No, I guess I shan't die this way, Doctor. You seem to forget the fact that I'm as tough as leather, with the vitality of a serpent."
"The toughest of us won't go for ever," observed Capper. "You get to bed.
I'll come to you directly."
When he joined him again, a few minutes later, Nap was lying on his back with arms flung wide, staring inscrutably at the ceiling. His mind seemed to be far away, but Capper's hand upon his pulse brought it back. He turned his head with the flicker of a smile.
"What's that for?"
"I happen to take an interest in you, my son," said Capper.
"Very good of you. But why?"
Capper was watching him keenly. "Because I have a notion that you are wanted."
Nap stirred restlessly, and was silent.