When they got off him Neil tried to arise, but, with a groan, subsided again on the turf.  The whistle blew and Simson ran on.  Neil was evidently suffering a good deal of pain, for his face was ashen and he rolled his head from side to side with eyes half closed.  His right arm lay outstretched and without movement, and in an instant the trouble was found.  Simson examined the injury quickly and called for the doctor, who probed Neil’s shoulder with knowing fingers, while the latter’s white face was being sopped with the dripping sponge.

“Right shoulder’s dislocated, Jim,” said Dr. Prentiss quietly to the trainer.  “Take hold here; put your hands here, and pull toward you steadily.  Now!”

Then Neil fainted.

When he regained consciousness he was being borne from the field between four of his fellows.  At the locker-house the injured shoulder was laid bare, and the doctor went to work.

The pain had subsided, and only a queer soreness remained.  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.  The door opened and Simson entered.  “Simson,” he called, “he says this may keep me laid up for two weeks.  It won’t, will it?”

“I hope not, Fletcher.  But you must get it well healed, or else it may go back on you again.  Don’t worry about—­”

“Don’t worry!  But, great Scott, the Robinson game’s only a month off!”

The trainer patted his arm soothingly.

“I know, but we must make the best of it.  It’s hard lines, but the only thing to do is to take care of yourself and get well as soon as possible.  The doc will get you out again as soon as it can be done, but you’ll have to be doing your part, Fletcher, and keeping quiet and cheerful—­”

“Cheerful!” groaned Neil.

“And getting strong.  Now you’re fixed and I’ll go over to your room with you.  How do you feel?”

“All right, I suppose,” replied Neil hopelessly.

Simson walked beside him back to college and across the campus and the common to his room, and saw him installed in an easy-chair with a pillow behind the injured shoulder.

“There you are,” said the trainer.  “Prentiss will look in this evening and I’ll see you in the morning.  You’d better keep indoors for a few days, you know.  I’ll have your meals sent over.  Don’t worry about this, but keep yourself cheerful and—­”