That voice I had certainly heard, but where?
“It’s the arm—broken!” said the voice.
“Ah,” said the doctor, leaning over me and touching me lightly near the elbow.
I groaned with agony as he did so.
“Go round to the other side,” said he, hurriedly. “I must examine where the fracture is. I’m afraid, from what you say, it must be rather a bad one.”
I just remembered catching sight of a well-known face bending over me, and a familiar voice whispering—
“Steady, old man, try to bear it.”
The next moment I had fainted.
It may have been minutes or it may have been hours before I next came to myself, and then my arm lay bandaged by my side, and the sharpness of the pain had gone.
“Fred, old man,” was the first thing I heard as I opened my eyes. I knew the voice now, and the face with its two great eyes which bent over me.