"I'm not."
"You are—for Heaven's sake, brace up! We've got to get down to him!"
They started fearfully over the treacherous return, reaching Smith's room thoroughly unnerved. Then they began to run down the stairs, calling out:
"Smithy's dead!"
"Smithy's fallen off the roof!"
On their trail came a motley assortment of excited boys, rushing out of every room. Without a single hope they tore around to the back of the Upper, and, there, sitting bolt upright in the position in which he had fallen, they found George Barker Smith. They stopped astounded.
"Smith, is that you!" Egghead said, in a hoarse, incredulous whisper, and the answer returned faintly:
"It's me, Egghead."
"Are you dying?"
"I don't know."