Then he returned to the private room in time to see his employer sit up with some difficulty.
The physician looked serious, as if he did not like the aspect of the case.
“He had better be removed to his home at once and his regular doctor sent for. His condition will not bear trifling with.”
Mr. Whitemore’s eyes rested on Vance.
He beckoned him to his side.
“I am thankful you are back,” he whispered with great difficulty. “I’m afraid I’m in a bad way. I’ve been struck down at a critical moment. I depend on you to look after the office. See my brokers. All my important papers are in the inner compartment of the safe. Write an order that I empower you to act for me until further notice and I will sign it.”
“Don’t lose a moment in doing it, young man,” said Broker Bradley, who was supporting the stricken corn operator. “He seems to be growing weak fast.”
Vance drew up the paper, which was signed with great trouble by Mr. Whitemore and witnessed by Broker Bradley and Bessie.
“Now the check-book,” he gasped feebly. “I will sign in blank. Fill it up by and bye with the amount of my entire balance at the Chicago National.”
“He has wonderful confidence in you, Thornton,” Mr. Bradley said, in great astonishment.