“Oh, I guess it’s all right,” spoke Bart carelessly, as he held up the gun. “You see fellows, this is the patent ejector, and the barrels—”
“Well of all things!” exclaimed Alice. “I spend a lot of time fixing up your injury and you go and undo all my work in a minute. I never saw such a boy!”
“How did you hurt yourself?” asked Ned.
“I had just loaded both barrels and put the gun on the table. It fell off and something hit one of the triggers or the hammers and it banged out like a cannon. My hand was in the way, that’s all.”
“Hurt much?” inquired Fenn.
“Not much,” was Bart’s careless answer.
But an exclamation of pain escaped him as he hit his bruised fingers against the gun stock.
“There!” exclaimed Alice. “I knew you’d do something wrong. Now I suppose it will start bleeding again,” and she turned back as if to undo the bandage.
“Never mind!” spoke Bart quickly. “I’ll stick some court plaster on if it does. Say Alice get us some cake and lemonade, please.”
Alice agreed and while she prepared the beverage and got some cakes from the pantry, in which interval the four boys talked nothing but gun, there is an opportunity of making you better acquainted with them. It’s hard to be introduced to a person when he has sustained a smashed thumb, so it is, perhaps, just as well that the formal presentation was postponed until now.