"My gosh!" said the twins. "Where did they take the man? Was he
hurt much?"

The boy looked curiously at the pair. "Say, do you always say
the same thing like that? You ain't the same boy, are you?
Feller went over to the Hospital."

"Hurt much?" said the boys.

"There you go again! Why, he limped, and I'll bet he's lame
to-morrow but I guess he ain't in a dyin' condition."

The boys watched while the unfortunate young horse was loaded on
the truck, then turned toward the hospital.

"What you got?" said Beany, "A sore throat?"

"I say not," cried his brother. "That's a symptom of scarlet
fever. They would jug us in the detention ward. I'm goin' to
have a splittin' headache."

"That's scarlet fever too," said his brother.

"Pick somethin' a boy's apt to have."

"Hot dogs then," said Beany. "I got an awful pain."

A delightful, dimply nurse met them at the Hospital. She heard
their tale of woo sympathetically, and the boys, with a wisdom