It seemed to me that I was struggling up through miles of deep blue water that gradually turned to lighter emerald. Huge sea monsters swam lazily about me, staring with curious, lackluster eyes. I fought on, in a panic to rise above them, and broke surface at last with a splash. But when I opened my eyes I was lying in a narrow white bed in a hospital room. An old man with a long beard bent over me, and beside him stood a nurse clad in white.
I stared at the old fellow curiously and he nodded at me.
“Feeling better, eh?” he asked.
I tried to fill my lungs with air, but desisted hurriedly at the stab of pain that shot through me. “What’s the matter with me?” I demanded.
The doctor laughed. “Nothing much. You’ve got five broken ribs and a broken breastbone. You’ve got a bullet wound in the shoulder that you neglected shamefully and another in the scalp. Otherwise you’re as healthy as possible.” He shook his head. “You’ve had the narrowest kind of a narrow escape, young man. You’ll pull through now if you take care. But no jumping about and no hasty movements until those ribs grow together again. We put you straight on the operating table and that’s all done with.” He turned to the nurse. “He’ll do now, nurse.”
The girl drew him aside and whispered a moment, and presently the doctor returned to my side.
“There are about nineteen people outside waiting to see you. If I let one or two of them in, will you keep quiet and be careful?”
“I sure will,” I told him.
He turned away and spoke to the nurse again. “Not more than two,” I heard him say. Then they both went out.
I lay waiting in a fever of impatience. But in a moment the door opened again and I was able to feast my eyes on the two prettiest girls in New York, even if I dared not hug them.