Knight, who has the imagination I lack, and who placed him at once, mentally.
"I only learned yesterday that you had been—er—saved," he said rapidly. "Terrible accident unspeakable. Dream about it all night and think about it all day. Broken arm?"
"No. He just wears the splint to be different from other people," McKnight drawled lazily. I glared at him: there was nothing to be gained by antagonizing the little man.
"Yes, a fractured humerus, which isn't as funny as it sounds."
"Humerus—humorous! Pretty good," he cackled. "I must say you keep up your spirits pretty well, considering everything."
"You seem to have escaped injury," I parried. He was fumbling for something in his pockets.
"Yes, I escaped," he replied abstractedly. "Remarkable thing, too. I haven't a doubt I would have broken my neck, but I landed on—you'll never guess what! I landed head first on the very pillow which was under inspection at the time of the wreck. You remember, don't you? Where did I put that package?"
