and there revealed
the silver bell, fitted into a small aperture in the wall. Then, with a
sob, he fell back into his chair.

"Hiram"--in a whisper--"after they bury me, you are to sleep in this
bed."

With a cry, the old man threw out a horrified, expostulating hand.
Catching it feverishly, the banker half raised himself in bed.

"Don't you understand?" he cried fiercely. "I may not be dead after all.
Remember grandfather! And Biggs--if that bell rings, get help--quick!"

Suddenly releasing his hold, McMasters fell back limply among the
pillows.

* * * * *

All through the long night the faithful Biggs maintained a sleepless
vigil, but the banker lay as immovable as a stone. When the rosy-cheeked
dawn came peeping audaciously through the casements, Biggs drew the
heavy curtains tightly shut once more.

Not until the doctor's motor whirled away did the patient rouse from his
lethargy.

Apparently strengthened by his deep stupor he spoke, and Biggs stood
instantly beside him.

"What did the doctor say?"

Biggs hesitated.

"Out with it, I'm no chicken-hearted weakling."

"Nothing much," admitted Biggs, sadly. "He only shook his head very
gravely."

"He doesn't understand this family malady any more than the old quack
who allowed my grandfather to be buried alive," said McMasters almost
fiercely.

Biggs shuddered and put a trembling hand to his eyes.

"What ails me, Biggs?" almost plaintively. "No one knows. This fever has
baffled the scientists for years. When you fall into a comatose
condition they call it suspended animation. That's the best thing they
do--find names for diseases. My family doctor doesn't have any more of
an idea about this malady than you or I. The average physician is just a
guesser. He guesses you have a fever and prescribes a remedy, hoping
that it will hit the spot. If it doesn't he looks wise, wags his
head--and tries something else on you. Maybe it works and maybe it
doesn't. The only thing my guesser is absolutely sure of is that if I
live or if I die, he will collect a princely fee for his services."

Biggs remained statuesque during the pause.

"Gad," McMasters broke out again testily, "if I fiddled around in my
business like that I'd be a pauper in a month."

"But the doctor says you're coming on," ventured Biggs.

"Sure he does," answered the banker with a sneer. "That's his stock in
trade. I know that line of palaver. Secretly, he kno