“Not to mention the doctor and Bert and the ‘Red Scout,’” added Mr. Hollis.
The doctor laughed and stepped into the machine. Dick took the wheel and the splendid car, none the worse for its wild ride, started on its way back to town, while Bert and Mr. Hollis, standing on the porch, looked after it almost as affectionately as though it had been human.
“Tally one more for the good old Scout,” murmured Bert, as he turned away.
That evening, his face still flushed at the heartfelt praise of his host, Bert went in to bid Tom good-night. The patient was getting on famously, but the shock to his system still persisted and he had been forbidden to do much talking. But the pressure of his hand on Bert’s and the look in his eyes were eloquent.
“Do you remember, Bert,” he half whispered, “what Reddy said the last time you saw him?”
“Why, no,” answered Bert, puzzled, and cudgeling his memory, “nothing special. What did he say?”
Tom smiled. “You’re fit to run for a man’s life.”