"My God!" cried Tom Meredith.
The bandaged hand waved jauntily over the Teller's head. "Ah, men," he
said, almost clearly, and tried to lift himself on his arm, "I tell you
it's a grand eleven we have this year! There will be little left of
anything that stands against them. Did you see Jim Romley ride over his
man this afternoon?"
As the voice grew clearer the sheriff stepped forward, but Tom Meredith,
with a loud exclamation of grief, threw himself on his knees beside the
cot and seized the wandering fingers in his own. "John!" he cried. "John!
Is it you?"
The voice went on rapidly, not heeding him: "Ah, you needn't howl; I'd
have been as much use at right as that Sophomore. Well, laugh away, you
Indians! If it hadn't been for this ankle--but it seems to be my chest
that's hurt--and side--not that it matters, you know; the Sophomore's just
as good, or better. It's only my egotism. Yes, it must be the side--and
chest--and head--all over, I believe. Not that it matters--I'll try again
next year--next year I'll make it a daily, Helen said, not that I should
call you Helen--I mean Miss--Miss--Fisbee--no, Sherwood--but I've always
thought Helen was the prettiest name in the world--you'll forgive me?--And
please tell Parker there's no more copy, and won't be--I wouldn't grind
out another stick to save his immortal--yes, yes, a daily--she said-ah, I
never made a good trade--no--they can't come seven miles--but I'll finish
you, Skillett, first; I know you! I know nearly all of you! Now let's
sing 'Annie Lisle.'" He lifted his hand as if to beat the time for a
chorus.
"Oh, John, John!" cried Tom Meredith, and sobbed outright. "My boy--my
boy--old friend----" The cry of the classmate was like that of a mother,
for it was his old idol and hero who lay helpless and broken before him.
The brougham lamps and the apathetic sparks of the cab gleamed in front of
the hospital till daylight. Two other pairs of lamps joined them in the
earliest of the small hours, these subjoined to two deep-hooded phaetons,
from each of which quickly descended a gentleman with a beard, an air of
eminence, and a small, ominous black box. The air of eminence was
justified by the haste with which Meredith had sent for them, and by their
wide repute. They arrived almost simultaneously, and hastily shook hands
as they made their way to the ward down the long hall and up the narrow
corridor. They had a short conversation with Gay and a word with the
nurse, then turned the others out of the room by a practiced innuendo of
manner. They stayed a long time in the room without opening the door.
Meredith paced the hall alone, sometimes stopping to speak to Warren
Smith; but the two officials of peace sat together in dumb consternation
and astonishment. The sleepy young man relaxed himself resignedly upon a
bench in the hall had returned to the dormance from which he had been
roused. The big hospital was very still. Now and then a nurse went through
the hall, carrying something, and sometimes a neat young physician passed
cheerfully along, looking as if he had many patients who were well enough
to testify to his skill, but sick enough to pay for it. Outside, through
the open front doors, the crickets chirped.