“Not much!” said Tom.
“Oh, yes he has; he’s got what Doc Carson calls a passive case. Doesn’t it beat all how Doc gets onto this medical talk? Did you hear that one he sprang the other night about a ‘superficial abrasion’? Cracky, it nearly knocked me over!”
“And ‘septic,’ too,” said Tom.
“Yes, ‘septic’s’ his star word now. Mr. Temple’s case is likely to become acute any time,” Roy added as he jogged along, jumping from one subject to another according to his fashion. “You know you can have a thing and not know it. Then something happens, you get a bad cold, for instance, and that brings the whole thing out. That’s the way it is with Mr. Temple—he’s just beginning to get the bug; he doesn’t know it yet. You ought to have heard him buzz me about tracking.
“Then he wanted to know how I knew one golf stick was hickory and another one maple. ‘Scout,’ said I. Oh, I’ve got him started-wait till he picks up a little momentum and you’ll see things fly.”
“You’ll never land him,” said Tom.
“I landed you, didn’t I?”
“Sure.”
“I bet I land him before the Chief lands Mrs. Bennett.”
They walked along a little while in silence. “What-what-did Mary say?” Tom asked. He had asked the question half a dozen times before, but it pleased him to imagine that he had forgotten the answer. Roy understood.