"You won't be able to play," he advised his patients, "and Kennedy must take two days off at least."
"I've got to play, Doc," responded Swanson, "if it's on one leg; I've got to."
It was a few minutes past noon when Swanson awoke with a start. The nurse was in the room, moving about quietly, and Kennedy still slept, moving and muttering in his sleep, as if dreaming of the battle. He remained quiet for a few moments, and then said:
"Nurse, please bring me my clothes."
"You must wait until after breakfast," she said, coming to the bedside. "Dr. Anderson was here a short time ago, and said I was to give you your breakfast when you awoke, then call him."
"But I'm in a hurry," protested the player. "I can't wait. They'll be anxious about us."
"The doctor said he would give you treatment and massage, so that you could get out more quickly," she responded. "I'll bring breakfast and then call him."
Kennedy, feeling much refreshed, but too sore and stiff to move without suffering, was awakened for breakfast, and he and Swanson discussed the situation in low tones as they ate.
It was past one o'clock before Swanson commenced to worry about the failure of the doctor to come. After fuming and fretting for more than half an hour he rang for the nurse and sent her in quest of Dr. Anderson. She returned soon and reported that he had been summoned suddenly to assist in performing an important operation, but that he probably would return soon. Not until two o'clock had passed did Swanson commence to become seriously disturbed at the failure of the doctor to appear. A short nap had refreshed him somewhat, and when Kennedy announced that it was past two o'clock he waited a few moments, then commenced ringing the call bell by his bedside to summon the nurse. There was no response, and growing angry and impatient, he rang again and again.
"If I only had a pair of pants," wailed the helpless giant, "I'd break out."