Instead of swearing the old bankclerk sighed. He had often said he was tired; now he thoroughly looked it.
Evan sighed too, but chiefly on account of the pain in his head. He went to bed both sick and discouraged, but in an hour he was too sick to think of discouragement. Mrs. Greig had a doctor in, and the ex-bankclerk was given a hypodermic injection. It drove away his pains and sent him sailing into a pleasant land.
Sam Robb did not rest so blissfully.
CHAPTER XVII.
A BANKCLERK'S GIRL.
After three days' sickness Evan realized, and the doctor emphasized it, that he had been near to nervous collapse.
"The country and outside work for you now, young man," said the physician; "leave offices to men with broad shoulders, like Mr. Robb's."
"Yes," observed Robb, present at the consultation, "let them kill the man who wants to die. I think you're right, doctor; Nelson needs a dose of farming. I have it, Evan! .... I know a fine fellow on a fruit and vegetable farm near Hamilton. He'll be tickled to death to have you, as long as you want to stay; and you'll save money, too."
"A good idea," added the physician, to whose profession money usually looks good.