We'll have to keep the leg pretty quiet, and put cold compresses on frequently." "I'll stay here and do it," volunteered Dave, promptly.
"You have to pitch to-morrow, Dave, if anything _should_ make the coach order me off the field," interposed Dick, anxiously.

"And you ought to be home and in bed now." "If Mrs.Prescott will put on the bandages up to one o'clock to-night that will be doing well enough," suggested Dr.Bentley.

"I shall be in to look at the young man quite early in the morning.

But don't attempt to get up for anything, do you understand, Prescott?
You know---" here Dr.Bentley assumed an air of authority---" I'm more than the mere physician.

I'm medical director to your nine.
So you're in duty bound to follow my orders to the letter." "I will---if you'll promise me that I can pitch," promised the boy fervently.
"I can't promise, but I'll do my best." "And, Dave," pressed Dick, "you'll skip home, now, and get a big night's rest, won't you?
There's a bare chance that you _might_ have to throw the ball to-morrow.