“I not only seem to be, I am,” the reporter retorted. “Told you that when I came here! But would anyone listen to me?”
“Twenty-four hours rest will fix you right up. We have a nice private room waiting for you on the third floor. Bath and everything.”
“Now listen!” exclaimed Jerry. “You said yourself I’m all right. I’m walking out of here now!”
“Sorry. Orders are you’re in for twenty-four hours observation.”
“Whose orders?”
“Dr. Bradley. He had a little talk with the publisher of your paper—”
“Oh, I get it! A conspiracy! They’re keeping me here to keep me from checking up on Danny Deevers!”
“What’s that?” the interne inquired curiously.
“Never mind,” returned Jerry, closing up like a clam. “I’ll slip you a fiver to get me out of here.”
“Sorry. No can do.”