“Oh!” he gasped. “Oh—oh, you’re there, then?”
“Naturally!” The Shark’s tone was no milder than before.
“And—and are you hurt?”
“Huh! What do you suppose?”
“But—but are you?”
“There are some statements,” said the Shark grimly, “which should not need to be made. That’s one of ’em.”
“I’m mighty sorry. I—I ought to have known.”
The contrition in Varley’s tone had its effect.
“Huh!” grunted the Shark, but less aggressively. “Huh! Certain causes are bound to produce certain results. I’m hurt—yes. I’m all banged up. But thank the stars! the worst didn’t happen. I haven’t broken ’em.”
“Your legs, you mean?”