“Well, well! We will settle all that later. Don’t worry about it. I am only too thankful that I have the money to help you out,” was Peter’s earnest response. “I’d be a great kind of a chum if I didn’t stick by you when you are in a hole like this. You’d do the same for me.”
“You bet I would!”
“Of course! Well, what’s the difference?”
“I’m afraid I’ll have to take you at your word, Peter,” agreed Nat reluctantly, after an interval of reflection. “I do not just see what else I can do at present.”
“That’s the way to talk,” cried Peter triumphantly. “I’ll look out for everything. See! They have come with a motor-car to take you to the hospital! You are going to have your long-coveted ride in an automobile, Nat.”
Nat laughed in spite of himself.
“I’m not so keen about it as I was.”
Gently the men lifted him in and the doctor followed.
“I’ll be out in a week, Peter—sure thing!” called Nat shutting his lips tightly together to stifle a moan as the car shot ahead.
“A week, indeed!” sniffed Bryant, as he turned away. “It’ll be nearer a month. So Jackson has a mother to look after, has he?”