In the late afternoon he hunted up Everett.
“I got tickets for Monday night. Will you tell your sister, please? And I’ll be at the house at seven fifteen. I reckon I’ll go back now; my head aches and I’m kind of funny all over. I’m going to bed.”
He staggered against a chair and subsided into it limply.
“Here, you come with me,” said Everett.
He took him back to his room and didn’t leave him until he was in bed with all the covers that could be found piled on top of him.
“Maybe I’d ought to send the doctor to you,” said Everett undecidedly. But Phillip wouldn’t hear of it. He was all right now, he declared between chattering teeth; all he needed was sleep. No, he didn’t want any dinner. But would Everett please tell his mother and Betty——
Everett promised and went off doubtfully. By good fortune he met Chester on the avenue and told him of Phillip’s plight, and Chester flew back to Thayer calling himself bad names. When he arrived Phillip was sitting up in bed singing happily:
“O, Annie Moore, sweet Annie Moore!
I shall never see sweet Annie any more!
She went away one summer day,
And I’ll never see my Annie any more!
O, Annie Moore, sweet——”
Chester pushed him back against the tumbled pillows and drew the covers over him.