"Jest say that we're going for a cruise in Southern waters with an old sea cap'n friend of mine. Tell him that you've been sticking pretty close to your desk, an' that I thought it would be a good thing for you to go along. Don't make any mystery of it. Tell him that we'll be back in a couple of months, an' that it's up to him to make good while we're gone.
"One thing more," he added, as Drew turned to go. "Tell him that I'm going to raise his salary, an' he'll feel so good about that that he won't waste much time thinking about us and our plans."
The recipe worked as Tyke had predicted, and after the first expressions of surprise, Winters speedily became engrossed in his added responsibilities and the increase in his pay, leaving Drew untroubled by prying questions.
For the next three days all worked like beavers, and by nightfall of the third day the moving had been effected and the stock arranged in their new quarters.
"Guess we're going to be ready for that cruise before Cap'n Rufe is," grinned Tyke, as he surveyed the finished work.
But he exulted too soon. That very evening, Drew received a telephone message from St. Luke's hospital saying that Mr. T. Grimshaw had been brought in there with an injured leg as the result of a street accident. He had requested that Drew be summoned at once.
Shocked and grieved, the young man hurried to the hospital. He was ushered at once into the private room in which Tyke was lying.
The leg had been bandaged, and Tyke had recovered somewhat from the first shock of the accident. He was suffering no special pain at the moment, and was eagerly watching the door through which Drew would come.
The latter's heart ached as he saw how wan and gray the old man's face looked. But his indomitable spirit still shone in his sunken eyes, and he tried to summon a cheery smile as Drew came near the bed.
"Well, Allen, my boy," he remarked, "I guess I crowed too soon this afternoon. I didn't think then that the old hulk would be laid up so soon for repairs."