"I'd know for one," Billy observed simply. "And suppose I tell somebody? You know I never could keep a secret."
"I told you how it would be, Tip," remarked Craft. "He's too damn honest for any use."
Billy nodded his gratitude. "Felix, I thank you. At least you are a friend of mine."
"You forget me," said the disappointed Tip. "If it hadn't been for the ground-and-lofty talking done by yours truly, you, William, would have already gone where the good Indians go. I can tell you, Felix and Sam are downright disgruntled with you."
"Felix, I take it all back," grieved Billy. "At the first convenient opportunity I shall drop a li'l arsenic in your coffee or a li'l lead pill in your system. I dunno which yet. And that goes for you too, Sam."
"What's that?" queried Sam, entering with a large platter of ham, eggs and potatoes and setting it down on the table. When Bill had explained, he smiled grimly. "Yep," said Sam Larder. "You've been a thorn in our well-known side for some time. Trimming you off the parent stem would do you—and us—a heap of good."
"I see," remarked Billy, sliding from the bed and hooking up a chair to the table, "I see that the patient is not yet out of danger. But the doctors have not completely despaired of his life. How about it, Tip? You haven't given me up yet, have you?"
"Bill," said Tip irritably, "you're a fool."
"But not a damn fool," returned Bill with his mouth full. "You'll have to admit there is a method in my madness."