“Hullo, there!” said the professor, hurriedly entering; “what’s the matter? Don’t say Frank’s ill!”
“He is saying it for himself, my dear Fred,” replied the doctor. “You have had some experience of this sort of thing out here. Look at him. He is calmer now, but he was talking wildly at random a few minutes ago.”
“What! Oh! Saint George and the Dragon! he mustn’t begin to talk,” cried the professor excitedly. “That would spoil all.”
There was a pause while the professor bent over and examined the sufferer.
“Well,” he said, “I’m not a doctor, but my journeys out here made me dabble a bit, and quack over my own ailments and those of my followers when there was no medical man to be had. I don’t know, Robert, old friend, but I should say it was a touch of brain fever, consequent upon yesterday’s excitement in the sun.”
“Ah-h-h!” ejaculated Sam, with a sigh of relief.
“You be quiet,” said the professor sharply. Then turning to the doctor, “Well, what do you think?”
“The same as you do. Poor lad! His anxiety was horrible, and what he went through was enough to prostrate a man twice as strong.”
“But you don’t think he is going to be seriously ill?”
“I hope not. Stay here while I mix him a sedative. He must have sleep; and Sam, get ready cold water compresses for his head.”