For it was quite dark and cold. He was in a daze, and there was a
curious smell about him--an odor that he tried to recall. Then, all
at once, it came to him what it was--chloroform. Once his father had
undergone an operation, and to deaden his pain chloroform had been
used.
"I've been chloroformed!" exclaimed the young inventor, and his
words sounded strange in his ears. "That's it. I've met with an
accident riding my motor-cycle. I must have hit my head, for it
hurts fearful. They picked me up, carried me to a hospital and have
operated on me. I wonder if they took off an arm or leg? I wonder
what hospital I'm in? Why is it so dark and cold?"
As he asked himself these questions his brain gradually cleared from
the haze caused by the cowardly blow, and from the chloroform that
had been administered by Featherton.
Tom's first act was to feel first of one arm, then the other. Having
satisfied himself that neither of these members were mutilated he
reached down to his legs.
"Why, they're all right, too," he murmured. "I wonder what they did
to me? That's certainly, chloroform I smell, and my head feels as if
some one had sat on it. I wonder--"
Quickly he put up his hands to his head. There appeared to be
nothing the matter with it, save that there was quite a lump on the
back, where the club had struck.
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