ways was. I hate to ask favors of people. I'll think it over, though. If I'm worse tomorrow I suppose I'll have to ask somebody for a loan."
Hubert felt very much worse in the morning. He said that every bone in his body ached, that the top of his head felt as though it was going to fly off, that he couldn't breathe, and that his chest felt congested.
Lillian put her hand on his forehead. "You aren't feverish," she said encouragingly.
He smiled humoringly at her. "No?" he asked.
"Your forehead is cool."
"So was-my brother's with a temperature of one hundred and six," said Hubert, complacently.
"I think you'd better stay in."
"Now, that's dumb, just plain dumb. What am I supposed to do? Sit here and die without money for a doctor?"
"Oh, Hubert, you're not as sick as that. I can get something from the drug store and give it to you. And if the worst comes to worst we can call a doctor and tell him that we're broke. He can send a bill when we're on our feet."
"Swell chance of him doing that."
"Now you're talking dumb. You know a doctor wouldn't refuse to treat you."
"Well, I wouldn't have the crust to ask him to send the bill later."
"I would."
"Yeh, you would. You've got lots of nerve, haven't you?"
