"Don't worry! But, great Scott, the Robinson game's only a month off!"

The trainer patted his arm soothingly.

"I know, but we must make the best of it. It's hard lines, but the only
thing to do is to take care of yourself and get well as soon as
possible. The doc will get you out again as soon as it can be done, but
you'll have to be doing your part, Fletcher, and keeping quiet and
cheerful--"

"Cheerful!" groaned Neil.

"And getting strong. Now you're fixed and I'll go over to your room with
you. How do you feel?"

"All right, I suppose," replied Neil hopelessly.

Simson walked beside him back to college and across the campus and the
common to his room, and saw him installed in an easy-chair with a pillow
behind the injured shoulder.

"There you are," said the trainer. "Prentiss will look in this evening
and I'll see you in the morning. You'd better keep indoors for a few
days, you know. I'll have your meals sent over. Don't worry about this,
but keep yourself cheerful and--"

Neil leaned his head against the pillow and closed his eyes.

"Oh, go 'way," he muttered miserably.