“You shall do nothing of the kind; the man hasn’t done me any harm and is leaving. He doesn’t deserve another thought.”
“He deserves what he will get if he ever dares to show himself here again.”
The doctor had the good habit of yielding to the domination of his much better tempered partner. He turned round without his weapon and resumed his seat in the hammock which he nervously rocked, thereby helping to soothe his anger. His wife sat on a camp stool and did not speak but looked at him with a smile whose significance was that of many words.
“Don’t,” he protested; “pitch in and scold all you wish, but don’t look at me like that—hello! hark!”
From across the lake came the faint, dull report of a revolver. The doctor raised his hand and whispered:
“Listen!”
In a few seconds, a second report traveled over the water to their ears. If that was all, it would mean nothing, but with the same interval, the third sound reached the startled couple.
“It is a call for help!” exclaimed the doctor bounding to his feet; “I am wanted at once by the Boy Scouts.”
The wife turned white and gasped: “Something has happened to Ruth!”
“We can’t know until we reach camp; come on!”