"I knew—you would. I told—him so." He glanced at me: "Did you—beat—that—other chap?"
I nodded and Patsy looked at me with a new respect.
"Good—for you," he whispered.
"Are you—does it hurt much, Patsy?" asked Fosgill.
"No, not much."
"That's good. We'll have you out before long."
Patsy grinned.
"Shut up!" he whispered. "You can't—fool me, Bull. I'm—a goner."
Fosgill muttered something and Patsy's eyes brightened.
"Bull," he whispered, "do you—think I—had a mother—like—other kids?"