"No; I want a doctor."

"I am the doctor."

"I thought you were the elevator man. I'm sick--awful sick--"

"Can you vomit?"

"Certainly! Anybody can do that."

The stranger pulled up a stool, seated himself beside the bed,
then felt of Anthony's cheek.

"You have a fever."

"That explains everything." Kirk sighed thankfully and closed his
eyes once more, for the doctor had begun to revolve slowly, with
the bed as an axis. "How are the other boys coming on?"

"Everybody is laid out. It's a bad night."

"Night? It must be nearly daylight by this time."

"Oh no! It is not midnight yet."

"Not midnight? Why, I didn't turn in until--" Anthony raised
himself suddenly. "Good Lord! have I slept all day?"

"You certainly have."