“What happened? Am I badly hurt?”
“Nothing much to speak of, unless something develops internally later, so the doctor says. You’re to keep quiet, Mr. Taylor,” the man went on. “The doctor will be here pretty soon. He left word he was to be called as soon as you became conscious.”
“Well, I’m conscious all right,” Tom said, trying to smile. His head had been aching badly, but the pain had somewhat stopped now. Gingerly he moved an arm, a leg, one of his hands and then the other. All his limbs seemed to be still attached to him, but he was sore and stiff, and ached in every joint and muscle.
“Well, how goes it, Mr. Taylor?” asked the doctor, as he came and stood smiling beside Tom’s bed.
“Pretty well, doctor.”
“That’s good. We’ll have you around again soon.”
“Just what happened?” asked Tom. He had a memory of Captain Hawkesbury’s horse crashing into him, and Tom thought he himself had been in danger of being crushed under the animal. But evidently that had not happened.
“There was a collision between you and Captain Hawkesbury,” went on the physician. “Both your mounts seemed to get a little beyond you, and that was strange, for the captain boasts of being able to manage any kind of horse.
“That isn’t saying you mismanaged yours, though,” the medical man went on. “I was looking at the drill, and I want to say you got out of what looked as if it was going to be a bad accident—you got out of it very nicely. You had a hard fall, and received a glancing blow on the head from one of the horse’s feet. But aside from the shock and the bruises you’re all right and I think you’ll be out in about a week.”
“A week!” gasped Tom.