"So you see, popper, if you would been downtown we wouldn't got that order at all," Max continued. "So what's the use worrying yourself?"
"He's right, popper," Babette added. "You're getting too old to be going downtown every day. The boys could look after the business. It's time you took a rest."
At this juncture Doctor Eichendorfer entered.
"Hello!" he said. "What are you doing sitting up here? You must get right back to bed."
"What are you talking nonsense?" Sam cried. "I am feeling pretty good already."
"You look it," Eichendorfer said. "If you could see the way you are run down this last week yet you wouldn't talk so fresh."
He seized Sam by the arm as he spoke and lifted him out of the chair.
"You ain't so heavy like you used to be, Mr. Gembitz," he went on as he helped Sam to his bed. "Another week and you could sit up, but not before."
Sam groaned as they tucked the covers around him.
"Now you see how weak you are," Eichendorfer cried triumphantly. "Don't get up again unless I would tell you first."