He is away out in the Sierras, somewhere. Been there for a month and he
won't come back till the doctors tell him he may. Goodness knows when
that will be."
Cousin Gussie had, it appeared, suffered a severe nervous breakdown.
The physicians had ordered immediate dropping of business and business
cares.
"He must drop everything, they said, and cut, if he wanted to head off
something a good deal more serious. He must get out of doors and stay
there; go to bed early at night--instead of early in the morning, which
had been more in his line--and rough it generally."
"Why--yes, yes, indeed. That was almost precisely what the doctors told
me I must do. Rest and--ah--good air, you know, and pleasant people. _I_
was very fortunate, really. I am at--ah--Gould's Bluffs, Cape Cod, you
know."
"Yes? Well, he's away out in California or Nevada or thereabouts. His
secretary is with him--Thomas, the fellow he's had so many years; you
remember him. Thomas has gone along to see that the chief--Mr. Cabot,
I mean--doesn't get any business letters or wires or anything of that
sort. He looks out for those that do come, the personal matters."
"Oh! Then perhaps my letter has been forwarded out there. That would
explain why I have received no answer. Yes, of course."
"Sure! Thomas will write you by and by, no doubt. But now that you are
here, why don't you see Barbour? Barbour is in charge of the chief's
outside affairs while Thomas is away.
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