"Oh, I'm all right. That man's scream kind of set my teeth on edge."
She struck another match, then lit the lamp and carried it to a dresser by the sink.
"Come over here and sit down," she said, drawing out a chair. "I want to swab out that cut in your leg. The rag is filthy--" She pulled out the drawer in the dresser. "Here's luck! Towels--clean ones! Who'd have thought it!"
With deft fingers she unfastened his bandage, then cleaned the wound with fresh water from the pump, using every precaution not to hurt him.
"You're certainly good at this kind of thing," was Bill's sincere tribute as she turned her attention to the bruised cut on his head.
"Part of my high school course, you know. I'm better at this than at Latin," she admitted with a smile. "Tell me what happened in the woods after I got scragged and Mike carted me up here?"
"Who's Mike?"
"I'll tell you about him in a minute. Get along with your story first."
"Not much of a story. I didn't last long enough to make it interesting."
"Tell me about it, anyway."