"Then he's barking up the wrong tree," Chester declared. "I don't feel exactly lovely, but I know I'm not going to stay here a month. Any broken bones, Hal?"
"No; and neither have you, according to the doctor. He said that we should be able to get about in a week or two."
"Well, that's a little better," Chester grumbled. "What do you mean by telling me a month, Stubbs?"
"I didn't say he said a month," Stubbs protested. "I said the doctor said something about thirty days, and so he did. He said that most men would have to lie in bed thirty days with your wounds, but that he felt you would be able to leave the hospital sooner because of a pair of remarkably fine constitutions."
"I think you were trying to have a little fun with me, Stubbs," Chester declared.
"You know I wouldn't joke with a sick boy," said Stubbs.
"No, I don't know it, either, Stubbs; and when I get out of here, I shall make it a point to get even with you."
"To get even?" Stubbs exploded. "You listen to me. You're even and a long ways ahead right now. In fact, you're so far ahead that I couldn't get even with you in a life time. However, when you get well, I'm going to have a try."
"You'd better not fool with me, Stubbs," said Chester. "I'm liable to get out of here right now and have a little bout with you."
"Well," said Stubbs, "I can lick you now."