The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1903-08-07
COMMITTED TO
THE DEEP
@.@.@.@.@.@.@.@.".@.@
BY A. ST. JOHN ADCOCK.

THE steward knocked, and put his
head in at the door.
"Cabin passenger, sir, No. 49," he re-
ported, with a business-ike brevity.
Very bad"
DIR. Walden glanced up from his
desk irritably.
whats the matter with him?'
Dunno, sir. Uncommon bad"
Usual thing, L suppose?"
''No. sir. Not seasick. Queer when
he come aboard yesterday, thought.
Been in bed all day. Wouldn't let me
get him anything just now he
asked me to fetch YOU
No. 16, you say? All right"
The steward withdrew, and the doc
tor only delayed to finish the first
paragraph of a letter he had been
writing when he was interrupted.
1t was not precisely an urgent let
ter, for he had no intention of doing
anything with it until the ship ar
rived at Liverpool; but it was let
ter that required deal of consider
alton, and though he was in most
things phlegmatic, he was impatient
to have it all ready to post immedi-
ately he landed, for it was to con-
tain much that he knew he could not
possibly put into speech, and it was
to tell the recipient that he would
arrive less than half day behind it.
Few of the passengers were in bed
yet, for the night was young; the
sea was quiet and the outer air
pleasantly warm, and through the
rhythmic throbbing of the engine he
could hear chattering and laughter
and footsteps pacing overhead as he
made his way between decks to his
patient.
The lamp that shone from the wall
of No. 16 showed him haggard man
stretched on the bunk apparently
asleep.
He was youngish man-not much
over 80, anyway. His features were
gaunt and tanned with hard living
and rough weather, and his hands
were coarsened as with manual en-
pigments. He slept uneasily, and his
breathing was stertorous and diff
cult.
While the doctor was taking this
preliminary survey he coughed and
awoke.
steward"
I'm the doctor. You sent for me.
What's wrong?"
'Oh, thanks. = :; I don't know,
doctor, I've felt awfully knocked up
for days past, and thought 1 could
throw it otf-but [ can't My heads
all afire, and my hands, too. Feel
that
The doctor took his hand and laid
finger on his pulse. The hand was
hot and dry, the pulse was galloping
furiously and brief examination
was sufficient to diagnose his all
ment.
"a touch of pneumonia" said
Walden. "Iou must take more care
of yourself than you've been doing
lately. You were not fit to travel;
you must have felt i'll before you
started"
Il wanted to get home" the other
answered, YEARLY. "Ive been away
a long time
I'VE must see what we can arrange
about nursing" the doctor concluded.
III give you some medicine; you've
got a good constitution, and, with
care, you'll pull round all right"
think SOP"
'Oh, yes. He mustn't be
left, Barrow" The doctor turned to
the steward. Somebody will have
to sit up with him tonight. I'll see
him again before l turn in; and I'll
get the captain to let you have as
sistance."
After fulfilling which latter duty he
retired to his cabin and resumed the
laborious composition of his letter.
A glimpse of what he was writing
would have amazed any man who
knew him. For to everybody who
knew him, with one possible excep-
ton, DIR. Walden was a matter-of-
fact, rather unsympathetic, wholly
unromantic man, of nearer so then
40; whereas the letter that was slow
ly developing under his pen might
almost have been written by a scnti-
mental youngster in the rapturous
agonies of first love. Nobody would
have credited the doctor with pos
sessing the smallest streak of sent;-
ment anywhere in his robust, sub
staptial person. He never suspected