"Big fool," the captain muttered to himself as he watched Tom shuffle away. "It takes a mighty hard blow to knock any sense into a head sich as his."
As the days passed, Rod became more restless, and kept calling for Anna Royanna. It was hard for the anxious watchers to listen to his piteous pleadings. The doctor's face grew grave during one of his frequent visits as he watched the raving boy.
"Do you suppose she'd come?" he asked Parson Dan, who had followed him into the room.
"Would it do any good, doctor?"
"It might. One can never tell. Anyway, I think that Miss Royanna should be told how sick he is. She is very fond of the boy. You should send word to his mother as well."
"You're right, doctor," the clergyman replied.
"I shall send two messages at once."
In less than two days Anna Royanna entered the room where Rod was lying. She had been driven from the station by a fast team. Her face was pale and worn, clearly showing that little or no sleep had come to her eyes the night before. In fact, she had not slept since she had received Parson Dan's message. Everything else was forgotten. Only one thing mattered to her, and that was the boy lying sick unto death in far-off Hillcrest.
Rod had been more restless than ever during the night, and the fever was at its highest. All realised that this was the crisis, and that a short time would decide everything. He was still calling and raving as the singer entered the room. Stepping quickly to his side, she placed her hand upon his hot forehead.
"Hush," she soothed. "I am here. It is Anna Royanna."