“Well, I’m mighty glad to hear it. You know I’ve been worrying—I just couldn’t help it. I kept thinking he might have a relapse or something—might lose his memory again.”
“Pooh! Nonsense! The doctor says he’s O. K. and he’ll stay so.”
“That’s great, Ned.”
“Funny,” said Osgood, “but the first thing he did was to ask about you.”
“I don’t see why he should care a rap about me. If it hadn’t been for me——”
“Oh, cut that out! It’s plain bosh. Nobody thinks for a minute of putting it all on you, much less Hooker.”
“You know, old man, I wish I could have said something when Roy spoke up the way he did last night and declared he was to blame. I felt something—something inside of me here, but I couldn’t say it to save my life. After I’m gone, I hope you’ll tell Hooker that I think him a dandy, a brick, the finest fellow in the world.”
“After you’re gone? What do you mean by that?”
“Of course I can’t go right away with this old ankle the way it is, but when it gets better so that I can leave Oakdale——”
“Leave Oakdale!” exploded Osgood. “Why are you going to leave Oakdale? Tell me that.”