"Paul," he said anxiously.
"It's all right."
"But it isn't! Here, I'll carry you to the first aid room." Joe got up, lifted Paul to his shoulders.
Joe had carried Paul perhaps a hundred feet when lights flickering on the walls and the sound of footsteps signaled the advance of the others.
"So," came Arden's voice as the beam from a flashlight centered on Joe's face, "the rat came out of his hole."
After the blackness, the light hurt Joe's eyes and he lowered his head.
Arden came forward quickly, slapped Joe openhanded across the mouth. "I've waited a long time for this!" He slapped him again, and Joe felt the blood trickling from his lips.
Joe lowered Paul Burnet easily to the floor. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand, said:
"You don't understand. I'm bringing Paul, he's hurt. His skull was fractured a long time ago, and it's reacting." He knelt beside Burnet, took the hurt man's wrist. "How are you now, Paul?"
Burnet smiled weakly: "A little better."