"Yes. Here, drink some more of this coffee. Jim, make a fresh
pot. You can stir the fire up a bit now."
"I---want to sleep," Harry protested, but Tom forced him to drink
more coffee. Then Hazelton sank into a deep slumber, breathing more
heavily.
"He's all right, now, or will be when he has slept," declared
Jim Ferrers.
"Is he?" retorted Tom, who held one hand against Harry's flushed
face, then ran the fingers down under his chum's shirt. "Jim, he's
burning up with fever. That's all that ails him!"
Then Tom placed one ear over Hazelton's heart.
"None too strong," Reade announced, shifting his head. "And here's
a wheezy sound in his right lung that I don't like at all."
"You don't suppose it's pneumonia?" asked Jim gravely.
It was congestion of the right lung that ailed Harry Hazelton.
But Tom knew nothing of that. Jim Ferrers, who had never been
ill in his life, knew even less about sickness.
As for Harry, he lay dangerously ill, with a doctor's help out
of the question!
CHAPTER XX
TOM TURNS DOCTOR
The door opened almost noiselessly.
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