Sometimes he strolled into a club or cafe where he knew he would be likely to find some friend who would help him while away a tiresome hour.

Bertram's friends quite vied with each other in rendering this sort of aid, so much so, indeed, that--naturally, perhaps--Bertram came to call on their services more and more frequently.
Particularly was this the case when, after the splints were removed, Bertram found, as the days passed, that his arm was not improving as it should improve.

This not only disappointed and annoyed him, but worried him.

He remembered sundry disquieting warnings given by the physician at the time of the former break--warnings concerning the probable seriousness of a repetition of the injury.

To Billy, of course, Bertram said nothing of all this; but just before Christmas he went to see a noted specialist.
An hour later, almost in front of the learned surgeon's door, Bertram met Bob Seaver.
"Great Scott, Bertie, what's up ?" ejaculated Seaver.