“The trouble with you is,” she scolded me, “your nerves are shot. You’ve been through too much excitement in the last few days. Keep it up and you’re going to have the heebie-jeebies for fair, a nervous breakdown.”

I held up a hand with spread fingers. It was steady enough.

She looked at it and said:

“That doesn’t mean anything. It’s inside you. Why don’t you sneak off for a couple of days’ rest? You’ve got things here so they’ll run themselves. Let’s go down to Salt Lake. It’ll do you good.”

“Can’t, sister. Somebody’s got to stay here to count the dead. Besides, the whole program is based on the present combination of people and events. Our going out of town would change that, and the chances are the whole thing would have to be gone over again.”

“Nobody would have to know you were gone, and I’ve got nothing to do with it.”