He began hurriedly gathering his notes together.
"Put up your work, Jim," he said. "We must lock up as soon as possible. John's baby's dead."
The news hardly took me by surprise. I foresaw from the first that it was something pretty bad. So I simply commenced doing as I was told.
"He wants me to tell him," began the cashier after a moment.
"The doctor?"
"Yes, and," looking at the clock, "he'll be back any minute now, and, perhaps, Jim——"
"I'd best be going?"
"Yes. I'll fix up, and—My God, it's sad!—and be down early to-morrow, Jim."
"John won't be here, I suppose."
"I hope not; but there's no telling. At any rate he won't—hustle—to-morrow as—he did to-day. I was thinking of that."