The Plans Disappear
Mr.Swift was lying on the floor, where he had fallen, in front of his bed, as he was preparing to retire.There was no mark of injury upon him, and at first, as he knelt down at his father's side, Tom was at a loss to account for what had taken place.
"How did it happen? When was it?" he asked of Mrs.Baggert, as he held up his father's head, and noted that the aged man was breathing slightly.
"I don't know what happened, Tom," answered the housekeeper, "but I beard him fall, and ran upstairs, only to find him lying there, just like that.Then I called you.Hadn't you better have a doctor?""Yes; we'll need one at once.Send Eradicate Tell him to run--not to wait for his mule--Boomerang is too slow.Oh, no! The telephone, of course! Why didn't I think of that at first? Please telephone for Dr.Gladby, Mrs.Baggert.Ask him to come as soon as possible, and then tell Garret Jackson to step here.I'll have him help me get father into bed."The housekeeper hastened to the instrument, and was soon in communication with the physician, who promised to call at once.The engineer was summoned from another part of the house, and then Eradicate was aroused.
Mrs.Baggert had the colored man help her get some kettles of hot water in readiness for possible use by the doctor.Mr.Jackson aided Tom to lift Mr.Swift up on the bed, and they got off some of his clothes.
"I'll try to see if I can revive him with a little aromatic spirits of ammonia," decided Tom, as he noticed that his father was still unconscious.He hastened to prepare the strong spirits, while he was conscious of a feeling of fear and alarm, mingled with sadness.
Suppose his father should die? Tom could not bear to think of that.He would be left all alone, and how much he would miss the companionship and comradeship of his father none but himself knew.
"Oh! but I mustn't think he's going to die!" exclaimed the youth, as hemixed the medicine.
Mr.Swift feebly opened his eyes after Tom and Mr.Jackson had succeeded in forcing some of the ammonia between his lips.
"Where am I? What happened?" asked the aged inventor faintly.
"We don't know, exactly," spoke Tom softly."You are ill, father.I've sent for the doctor.He'll fix you up.He'll be here soon.""Yes, I'm--I'm ill," murmured the aged man."Something hurts me-- here," and he put his hand over his heart.
Tom felt a nameless sense of fear.He wished now that he had insisted on his parent consulting a physician some time before, when Mr.Swift first complained of a minor ailment.Perhaps now it was too late.
"Oh! when will that doctor come?" murmured Tom impatiently.
Mrs.Baggert, who was nervously going in and out of the room, again went to the telephone.
"He's on his way," the housekeeper reported."His wife said he just started out in his auto."Dr.Gladby hurried into the room a little later, and cast a quick look at Mr.Swift, who had again lapsed into unconsciousness.
"Do you think he--think he's going to die?" faltered Tom.He was no longer the self-reliant young inventor.He could meet danger bravely when it threatened himself alone, but when his father was stricken he seemed to lose all courage.
"Die? Nonsense!" exclaimed the doctor heartily."He's not dead yet, at all events, and while there's life there's hope.I'll soon have him out of this spell."It was some little time, however, before Mr.Swift again opened his eyes, but he seemed to gain strength from the remedies which Dr.Gladby administered, and in about an hour the inventor could sit up.
"But you must be careful," cautioned the physician."Don't overdo yourself.I'll be in again in the morning, and now I'll leave you some medicine, to be taken every two hours.""Oh, I feel much better," said Mr.Swift, and his voice certainly seemed Stronger."I can't imagine what happened.I came upstairs, after Tom had received a visit from the minister, and that's all I remember.""The minister, father!" exclaimed Tom, in great amazement."The minister wasn't here this evening! That was Mr.Gunmore, the aviation secretary.Don't you remember?""I don't remember any gentleman like that calling here to-night," Mr.Swift said blankly."It was the minister, I'm sure, Tom.""The minister was here last night, Mr.Swift," said the housekeeper."Was he? Why, it seems like to-night.And I came upstairs after talkingto him, and then it all got black, and--and--""There, now; don't try to think," advised the doctor."You'll be all right in the morning.""But I can't remember anything about that aviation man," protested Mr.Swift."I never used to be that way-- forgetting things.I don't like it!""Oh, it's just because you're tired," declared the physician."It will all come back to you in the morning.I'll stop in and see you then.Now try to go to sleep." And he left the room.
Tom followed him, Mrs.Baggert and Mr.Jackson remaining with the sick man.
"What is the matter with my father, Dr.Gladby?" asked Tom earnestly, as the doctor prepared to take his departure."Is it anything serious?""Well," began the medical man, "I would not be doing my duty, Tom, if I did not tell you what it is.That is, it is comparatively serious, but it is curable, and I think we can bring him around.He has an affection of the heart, that, while it is common enough, is sometimes fatal.
