Neil watched operations with interest, his face fast regaining its color.
"Nothing much, is it ?" he asked.
"Not a great deal.

You've smashed your shoulder-blade a bit, and maybe torn a ligament.

I'll fix you up in a minute." "Will it keep me from playing ?" "Yes, for a while, my boy." Bandage after bandage was swathed about the shoulder, and the arm was fixed in what Neil conceived to be the most unnatural and awkward position possible.
"How long is this going to lay me up ?" he asked anxiously.

But the doctor shook his head.
"Can't tell yet.

We'll see how you get along." "Well, a week ?" "Maybe." "Two ?" "Possibly." "But--but it can't! It mustn't!" he cried.