"We don't need a Drummond light to see what ails Jimmy," said Jack, quietly.
"Still," said Ned, "he ought to have a good doctor. Can't you tell them to get Dr. Campbell? Father says he has tied the croaking artery nineteen times. Dr. Campbell is the man for my money! But how queer it must feel to have nineteen hard knots tied in your croaking artery. Do you think Jimmy's croaking artery will have to be tied up, Jack? If it does, I tell you what, Dr. Campbell's the man to do it."
Jack laughed immoderately. But Ned was not the only person who ever made himself ridiculous by recommending a physician too enthusiastically.
"I don't see what you're laughing at," said he. "It seems to me it's a pretty serious business."
"I was only laughing at a harmless little mistake of yours," said Jack. "When you said 'the croaking artery,' I presume you meant the carotid artery—this one here in the side of the neck."
"If that's the right name of it, that's what I meant," said Ned.
"And when your father said Dr. Campbell had tied it nineteen times," continued Jack, "he didn't mean that he had tied nineteen hard knots in one person's, but that he had had occasion to tie the artery in nineteen different persons."
"And will Jimmy's have to be tied?" said Ned.
"As the carotid artery is in the neck, and Jimmy's injuries are all in his legs, I should say not," said Jack.
"Of course not; I might have thought of that," said Ned. "But you see, Jack, I don't know much about doctor-things anyway, and to-day I don't know what I do know, for everybody's been saying I'm to blame for Jimmy's hurt, and making me feel like a murderer. I'll do whatever you say, Jack. If you say run for Dr. Campbell, I'll go right away."