Dr. Morrison shrewdly remarked, with a twinkle in his eye, “If you can forget your breakfast, Jack, I can imagine what happened last night.”
Jack moved to the edge of his seat. “How is he?” he inquired anxiously. “Hurt bad?”
“Oh, I guess he will live to get into plenty of more trouble. Nothing to worry about.”
Mrs. Morrison returned and placed silverware and a plate in front of Jack. “Your bacon and eggs will be ready right away,” she said. “In the meanwhile, have this orange juice.”
Just then Paul came downstairs. He was smiling and looked as though nothing had happened. “Good morning, everybody,” he called cheerfully.
His greetings were returned. Kissing his mother on the cheek, she noticed the bandage on the back of his head. “What happened?” she demanded.
“Nothing, Mother. I just fell, that’s all.”
She looked at her husband who was smiling. “Nothing much,” he muttered to re-assure her.
“I wonder,” she said skeptically.
Paul and Jack looked at each other and grinned guiltily. “Well, sit down,” remarked Dr. Morrison, addressing his son.