Billy raised a saucy eye as well masked as Mark's own could be on occasion.
“Kid, how much is he hurt! Tell me the truth! If you don't I'll get right up and go and see.”
“I'll tell the world, you won't!” said Billy rising lazily and taking a gentle menacing step toward the bed.
“Kid!”
“Well—he's some hurt—but he's getting along fine now. He'll be aw'wright.”
“How'd he get hurt?”
“Oh, the fire, same's you.”
“How?” insisted Mark.
“Oh, he went up again after a fella when it was too late—”
“Billy, was it me?”