ward the nearer point, and when the keel
grounded, eager hands were waiting to lift Steve out and hurry him back
to the hotel. Tom crawled out of the water and subsided on the bank,
still fighting for breath and feeling rather sick at his stomach.
Between Fowler and Milton he was lifted and half carried, weakly
protesting that he could walk all right and promptly crumpling up when
they allowed him to try.

Steve had been taken up to the room he was occupying, and Danny Moore
was administering to him when Tom was brought in and laid on his bed.
Steve was already talking weakly and Danny was telling him to keep
still.

"Don't be talking," he said. "Fit that bottle to your back and keep
covered up. You'll be fine in an hour. An' who've you got there? Well,
if it ain't my old friend Jim Hall!"

Tom smiled faintly as Danny bent over him.

"An' so you been tryin' to drown yourself too, have you?" continued
Danny. "Well, well,'tis queer tastes you have, the two of you! Drink a
bit o' this, Jim, and lie still."

Mr. Robey came in and Danny nodded reassuringly to him. "They'll be fine
as fiddles in an hour, Coach. Now you boys scatter out o' here an' leave
them have a bit nap."

Tom didn't remember much for awhile after that, for he must have fallen
promptly to sleep. When he awoke, the light was turned low and Steve was
sitting on the edge of the bed. On a chair beside him was a tray from
which appetizing odours curled toward him. Tom blinked sleepily.

"Hello," he murmured. "What's up?"

"I am and you're not," answered Steve. "I've brought you some supper.
Are you hungry?"

Recollection returned then and Tom observed his chum anxiously.

"Are you all right!" he demanded. "Did they say you could get up?"

"Of course. You can too after you eat. But you were asleep and Danny
said you might as well have it out. How are you feeling?"

Tom sat up experimentally and took a deep breath. "All right," he
answered stoutly, although as a matter of fact he was full of stiff
spots and queer aches. "And--and I'm hungry."

"Good stuff!" laughed Steve. He lifted the tray to Tom's lap and took
the covers from the dishes. "There isn't an awful lot here," he added
apologetically, "but Danny said you'd be better if you didn't eat such a
big supper. Do you mind?"

"No, I guess there's enough. That soup smells good. What's that there?
Roast beef? Fine!" And Tom fell diligently to work.

Steve watched in silence a moment. Then,