But Ralston, not to be frustrated, carried the matter to Monck, then on the high road to recovery.
"What in thunder is the matter with the young ass ?" he demanded.

"He gets more lantern-jawed and obstreperous every day." "Leave him to me!" said Monck.

"Discharge him as cured! I'll manage him." "But that's just what he isn't," grumbled Ralston.

"He ought to be well.
So far as I can make out, he is well.

But he goes about looking like a sick fly and stinging before you touch him." "Leave him to me!" Monck said again.
That afternoon as he and Tommy lounged together on the verandah after the lazy fashion of convalescents, he turned to the boy in his abrupt fashion.
"Look here, Tommy!" he said.