"Are you in, mate?" he asked, outside. "Seeing you were not at work for the last two days, I thought I would walk over and ask you if anything was the matter."
The young man came out from the tent; he looked utterly worn-out.
"My father has been too ill for me to leave him," he said, in a low tone. "I spoke of him as my mate before, but he is my father."
"Can I do anything?" Frank asked.
"No, thank you; I don't think any one can do anything. If there were a doctor in camp, of course I should call him in; but I don't think it would be of any use. He's broken down, altogether broken down. We don't want for anything, thanks to your kindness."
"You look worn-out yourself," Frank said.
"I suppose I do. I have not lain down for the past five days."
"Then," Frank said, "I insist on taking your place to-night. Is he sensible?"
The young man shook his head.
"Sometimes, for a little while, I think he knows where he is, but most of the time he lies perfectly still, or just talks to himself.