“It's Musgrave; the doctor sent me along. Your partner's taken a turn. He's going the right way now.”
Charnock looked at the messenger. His relief was overwhelming and he could not speak.
“That's all, but I guess it's good enough, and you can go to sleep,” the other resumed, and went away.
When he vanished among the trees Charnock returned to his chair. He thought he ought to have brought the man in and made him some coffee, but he was horribly tired and did not want to move about and talk. Besides, he was conscious of a poignant satisfaction that prevented his thinking about anything else. While he indulged it a wave of fatigue swept over him and his head drooped. He tried to open his eyes but could not, and a few minutes later he was sound asleep.
When he awoke the sun shone into the office and he felt stiff and cramped, but not cold. This was strange, and he glanced at the stove, which he had expected to find nearly out. The iron, however, glowed a dull red and he could hear the cordwood snapping. Somebody must have put in fresh fuel, and looking at his watch he got up with a start. The men had been at work for two hours, with nobody to superintend them. Then he heard a movement and turning round saw one in the room.
“Feeling better, boss?” the fellow asked. “Mr. Kerr told me to come and see if you were awake. Said you'd find breakfast ready if you went to his place.”
“I expect you thought waiting for me to wake was easier than rolling logs,” Charnock suggested.
“Oh, well!” said the other; “you won't find we've fooled away much time.”
Charnock went to Festing's shack and the doctor nodded and indicated his comrade's bunk. As Charnock stopped beside it Festing turned his head.
“Things going all right, Bob?”