He stood threateningly in front of the much bigger man, the light of determination in his eyes; continued:
"Will you lie down on that bunk and let me fetch you the doctor? Refuse, and as sure as I stand here I shall try my hardest to make you."
Masters pressed his hands to his aching, throbbing forehead. His mind was whirling so, that it was no wonder he staggered. His brain did not seem able to hold the blend: could not contain so much happiness and so much condemnation of himself, for his unutterable foolishness. True to his threat, Dick advanced; Masters warded him off.
"Don't, Dick! Just a moment, old fellow.... I don't want a doctor. What you have just said has done me more good than a syndicate of all the doctors in the world could effect."
He laughed weakly, foolishly: by no means a confidence-inspiring laugh. The mirth, if such it could be called, and the change of tone were even more disturbing to the listener.
"What have I said? Here, Prince, you are going off your nut, old man; that's what's the matter with you! I thought it when you began this game, but I didn't like to say so; I must now. Sitting in the sun so much has given you a mild attack of sunstroke. If you've any feeling that you would like to knock me about, now's your time to indulge it; for I am going to try to make you come away from that door."
"Dick! My dear boy! I assure you I am all right! All I want is a talk——"
"Talk! Great Scott! Have you done anything else? This has been like a tabbies' tea-fight! There's been enough chatter to keep a tree-full of monkeys going! Talk! Christopher Columbus! It's been a perfect Niagara of jaw!"
"There, I'll lie in my bunk if it will please you, Dick."
"It's that, or sudden death from a blow of this ought-to-be brawny arm! Money or your life was never uttered more seriously than I am talking. The doctor——"