“Serious,” was the answer; “he may be laid up for a month.”
The doctor went away, and the chief came up to the side of the bed.
“This is too bad, Nicholas!” he exclaimed.
“Lock the door,” said Nick.
The chief was surprised at the strength of the detective’s voice.
When he locked the door, he turned around and found the detective sitting up.
“Say,” muttered the officer, “what in thunder does all this mean?”
“It means that I am faking,” replied Nick.
“Faking?”
“That’s it. I wasn’t badly wounded: only scratched.”