The Breaking Point - Page 134/275

He got his hat and went out, and down the stairs again. Wilkins had

disappeared, but Bill still stood by the entrance, watching the crowd

that drifted in and out. In his state of tension he felt that the hotel

clerk's eyes were suspicious as he retained the two rooms for another

day, and that Bill watched him out with more than casual interest.

Even the matter of cancelling the order for the car loomed large and

suspicion-breeding before him, but he accomplished it, and then set out

to find medical assistance.

There, however, chance favored him. The first doctor's sign led him to a

young man, new to the town, and obviously at leisure. Not that he found

that out at once. He invented a condition for himself, as he had done

once before, got a prescription and paid for it, learned what he wanted,

and then mentioned Dick. He was careful to emphasize his name and

profession, and his standing "back home."

"I'll admit he's got me worried," he finished. "He saw me registered and

came to my room this morning to see me, and got sick there. That is, he

said he had a violent headache and was dizzy. I got him to his room and

on the bed, and he's been sleeping ever since. He looks pretty sick to

me."

He was conscious of Bill's eyes on him as they went through the lobby

again, but he realized now that they were unsuspicious. Bassett himself

was in a hot sweat. He stopped outside the room and mopped his face.

"Look kind of shot up yourself," the doctor commented. "Watch this sun

out here. Because it's dry here you Eastern people don't notice the heat

until it plays the deuce with you."

He made a careful examination of the sleeping man, while Bassett watched

his face.

"Been a drinking man? Or do you know?"

"No. But I think not. I gave him a small drink this morning, when he

seemed to need it."

"Been like this all day?"

"Since noon. Yes."

Once more the medical man stooped. When he straightened it was to

deliver Bassett a body blow.

"I don't like his condition, or that twitching. If these were the good

old days in Wyoming I'd say he is on the verge of delirium tremens.

But that's only snap judgment. He might be on the verge of a good many

things. Anyhow, he'd better be moved to the hospital. This is no place

for him."

And against this common-sense suggestion Bassett had nothing to offer.

If the doctor had been looking he would have seen him make a gesture of

despair.