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Poole, Ernest, 1880-1950

"His Family"

They're with Bruce now."
"Where's Edith?"
"She's trying to quiet the children. They all woke up--" Deborah
frowned--"when he was brought in," she added.
"Well!" breathed Roger. "I declare!" Dazed and stunned, he sank into a
chair. Soon the door opened and Allan came in.
"He's gone," he said. And Deborah jumped. "No, no, I meant the doctor."
"What does he say?"
"Bruce can't live," said Allan gently. In the tense silence there came a
chill. "And he knows it," Allan added. "He made me tell him--he said he
must know--for business reasons. He wants to see you both at once, before
Edith gets that child asleep."
As they entered the room they saw Bruce on his bed. He was breathing
quickly through his narrow tight-set jaws and staring up at the ceiling
with a straining fixed intensity. As they entered he turned his head. His
eyes met theirs and lighted up in a hard and terrible manner.
"I'm not leaving them a dollar!" he cried.
"We'll see to them, boy," said Roger, hoarsely, but Bruce had already
turned to Baird.
"I make you my executor, Allan--don't need it in writing--there isn't
time." He drew a sudden quivering breath. "I have no will," he muttered on.
"Never made one--never thought of this. Business life just
starting--booming!--and I put in every cent!" There broke from him a low,
bitter groan. "Made my money settling other men's muddles! Never thought of
making this mess of my own! But even in mine--I could save something
still--if I could be there--if I could be there--"
The sweat broke out on his temples, and Deborah laid her hand on his head.


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