“It is the heart of a lion,” said Bart Hodge.
“Now, you’re not going to escape without some of this flattery!” smiled Frank. “You did as much as any man on the field.”
“I didn’t make a touch-down.”
“Boys,” said Frank, “I’m so glad—and I’m so tired! The pain in my side does not hurt so much since the doctor gave me the medicine. I feel sleepy. I believe I’ll sleep awhile. Oh, what a glorious Thanksgiving!”
Even as he murmured the words, he seemed to fall asleep. They stole out of the room and left him there, with Bart Hodge watching at the bedside, like a faithful dog.
THE END.
| MEDAL LIBRARY | A weekly publication devoted to good literature. June 25, 1906. | NO. 365 |
“Just the Thing”