“Yes, sir.”

“It would probably hurt a little less, now.  No—–­don’t try it,” as Dick started to bolster himself up.  “You want that knee in shape at the earliest moment, don’t you?”

“Of course I do, doctor.”

“Then lie very quiet, and do, in everything, just what you are told.”

“I’ve got to pitch to-morrow afternoon, you know, doctor.  And I’ve got to run bases.”

Dr. Bentley pursed his lips.

“There’s a chance in a thousand that you’ll be able, Prescott.  The slight swelling is the worst thing we have to deal with, I’m glad to say.  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.  But I won’t let you, if I can stop it,” Prescott added wistfully.

So Dave departed, for he was accustomed to following the wishes of the head of Dick & Co. in such matters.

Mrs. Prescott had come in as soon as the lad had been placed between the sheets.  Dr. Bentley gave some further directions, then left something that would quiet the pain without having the effect of an opiate.

“It all depends on keeping the leg quiet and keeping the cold compresses renewed,” were the medical man’s parting words.

Twenty minutes later Dave telephoned the store below.  Darrin was in a state of great excitement.

“Tell Dick, when he’s awake in the morning,” begged Dave of Mr. Prescott, who answered the call, “that Gridley pitchers seem to be in danger to-night.  At least, two of ’em are.  I was right near home, and running a bit, when I passed the head of the alley near our house.  A bag of sand was thrown out right in front of my feet.  How I did it I don’t quite know yet, but I jumped over that bag, and came down on my feet beyond it.  It was a fearfully close call, though.  No; I guess you hadn’t better tell Dick to-night.  But you can tell him in the morning.”