“Hello, fellows!” he murmured weakly. “What’s up?”
Their joy was beyond measure. Even while they were seeking to restore him to consciousness they had been tormented by the fear of seeing only an insane gleam in his eyes when he should open them.
“Bart, old man!” cried Frank, in a voice that broke despite all efforts to control it. “You know us, then?”
“Know you?” repeated Bart wonderingly and trying to raise himself, a movement which they gently checked. “Of course I know you. Are you kidding me?”
“Listen, Bart,” replied Frank with a warning glance at his companions not to reveal prematurely the whole story. “You got a knock on the head in the fighting that put you out of business for a while and we’ve been a little scared. But you’re all right now.”
“Sure, I’m all right,” answered Bart, “and I’ll be ready tomorrow to take another crack at the Huns. How is the battle going?”
“All to the good,” answered Frank. “But you’d better lie still for a while. We’ll put you on my bed and you won’t have even a headache in the morning.”
Bart protested, but they overruled him and tucked him in the blankets, where he promptly went to sleep. Then Frank went in search of one of the doctors who came promptly. He listened with the greatest interest while the three chums told their story. Then he made as careful an examination of Bart as he could without waking him.
“He’ll be all right, I think,” was his verdict. “He’s fairly well nourished. I suppose he’s found plenty of food in the wake of the army. And the life in the open air has built him up after his hospital experience. The only trouble has been with his mind, and from what you tell me he’s come to himself again. Of course he’ll have to take things easy for the next few days and you mustn’t tell him now about his hospital escapade. Let him think the injury happened to him yesterday. We’ll take him along in one of the ambulances, and I venture to say that in a week he’ll be with you again as well as ever.”
“I can’t forgive myself for knocking him down,” said Frank mournfully.