"You have got one of my little fellows inside," he continued. "How is he getting along?"
"You mean that Daly boy?"
He nodded assent.
"Why, we are all in love with him. He is one grand boy. This morning the doctor had to remove some loose skin from his arm, and he found that he would have to do a little cutting of the flesh to get at some of the skin which had become imbedded. The boy heard him say to me, 'It will hurt him like the mischief.' The lad spoke up, 'Go ahead, Doc. If you can stand it, I guess I can.'
"The doctor didn't want to use cocaine on it, so he took the boy at his word. It was simply terrific, Father! We had to pull the skin out with pincers. He just tightened his jaws, and never let out a moan. That boy is a credit to you. He has always taken just what was given him and has been no trouble to anybody."
As Father Boone was getting ready to reply, the doctors passed into the next ward.
The priest went in at once to see his patient. Daly's eyes, as big as saucers, greeted him.
"Well, that was a nice scare you gave us all, you little rascal," was the priest's greeting. All Bill could do was grin. "They tell me there is nothing the matter with you, that you are just a bit frightened."
"O, I don't know about the frightened part," rejoined Daly, "I guess there was somebody else in that boat, as well as myself."
"My boy, I want to congratulate you. Not on your ladder stunt, anyone could do that, and not fall off, either; but on your fortitude here. True, there are no bones broken or anything like that, but you've had a lot of acute pain to endure, and they tell me you have not whimpered. You have given the Club a good name here. William, I am proud of you."