In a daze, Speed saw his friend mount the porch painfully; in a daze, he shook his hand. Subconsciously he beheld Lawrence Glass come panting into view, throw up his hands at sight of Covington, and cry out in a strange tongue. When he regained his faculties he broke into the conversation harshly.
"What have you done to yourself?"
"I broke a toe," explained the athlete.
"You broke a toe?"
"He broke a toe!" wailed Glass, faintly.
"If it's nothing but a toe, it won't hurt your running." Speed seized eagerly upon the faintest hope.
"No. I'll be all right in a few weeks." Covington spoke carelessly, his eyes bent upon Jean Chapin. "You've g-got to run to-morrow."
"What!" Covington dragged his glance away from the cheeks of his sweetheart.
"I—I'm sick. You'll have to."
"Don't be an idiot, Wally. I can't walk!"