“Long before this we had run out of all adequate medical supplies. Our surgeons could not probe Racoszky’s legs properly to remove but one of the three bullets which had lodged there. They wanted to amputate, but he swore that he would kill himself if they did. So there he has lain ever since, poor fellow, with his wounds festering, and blood poison getting more assured every day. Always he keeps moaning in that way for his girl-bride and the baby he has never seen.”
This touching story moved all of the boys profoundly and weighed on their spirits to such an extent that Alan finally said:
“What do you fellows say to playing the Good Samaritan and taking Lieutenant Racoszky out of here in the Flyer to some place where he can get the medical attention that his bravery deserves?”
“That’s just what I was thinking,” answered Bob.
“And I,” echoed Buck. “But where shall we take him?”
Ned spoke up.
“Why not to Vienna, the capital? The very best hospitals and surgeons in the country are there and—so are his wife and baby. The sight of them would undoubtedly do him as much good as all of the expert medical attention he would receive.”
“The very thing! A great idea!” exclaimed the other boys. “But what about that crabbed old count, her father! Do you think that he will relent enough to permit Racoszky to see his daughter?”
“That,” said Ned briefly, “is up to us and can, I think, be managed. Anyway, it certainly is worth the trial. Now let’s go to the commandant and see if he will permit us to remove the lieutenant.”
The governor, they found, was only too pleased to afford his faithful officer this unexpected chance of recovery, and helped remove the invalid to a soft bed they had made ready in the airship’s spare stateroom.