"Cut it out, boys," said Courtland, with a weary smile. "I've seen
enough. Wittemore's called home. His mother's dying. I went an errand
for him down in some of his slums and on the way back I just saw a
little kid get killed. Pretty little kid, too, with long curls!"

"_Good night nurse!_" said Pat from his couch. "Say, that is going
some!"

"Ferget it!" ejaculated Bill Ward, coming to his feet. "Had your supper
yet, Court?"

Courtland shook his head.

"Well, just you sit still there while I run down to the pie-shop and see
what I can get."

Bill seized his cap and mackinaw and went roaring off down the hall.
Courtland's eyes were closed. He hadn't felt so tired since he left the
hospital. His mind was still grappling with the questions that his last
two hours had flung at him to be answered.

Pat sat up and put away his pipe. He made silent motions to Tennelly,
and the two picked up the unresisting Courtland and laid him on the
couch. Pat's face was unusually sober as he gently put a pillow under
his friend's head. Courtland opened his eyes and smiled.

"Thanks, old man," he said, and gripped his hand understandingly. There
was something in Pat's face he had never noticed there before. As he
dropped his eyelids shut he had an odd sense that Pat and Tennelly and