"Yes," agreed Dorothy. "That suave manner of his gives me the creeps!"
"So sorry--" purred the Doctor's voice directly behind them. "But if I were in your position, my young friends, I should undoubtedly be worried, too."
Bill and Dorothy swung round to see him coming toward them. In his hand he carried a small, black bag.
"How is our invalid, nurse?" he inquired, feigning ignorance of their startled surprise, and placing his satchel on the table. "Those who live by the sword--but you are familiar with the quotation, I'm sure?"
Opening the bag, he produced bandages, adhesive tape, a pair of surgical scissors and a large tube of salve.
"Lay these out, so I can reach them easily, please," he ordered as he unwrapped the temporary bandage Dorothy had bound about Bill's leg.
"Ah! I see you have cleansed the wound, but it is safer to be more thorough. Hand me one of the swabs you will find wrapped in cellophane in the bag, please. Strange how the professional spirit will dominate--even though the patient's life may not be a long one!" He glanced smilingly at Dorothy.
"Don't tell me the knife was poisoned?" she cried in horror.
"Hardly anything so melodramatic, my dear. You don't quite grasp my meaning."
"He means," said Bill grimly, "that after he has had the fun of patching me up, I'm to be taken for a ride. But don't let him bluff you. He's only trying to scare us."