“By George!” he cried, alarmed. “I am an idiot! It ’ll be dark now, and I have all that stuff to carry back! The young chap who’s with me is laid up—”
“Laid up?” cried Jacqueline.
“Yes, or he’d have come with me; but now—”
“What’s the matter with him?” Jacqueline demanded fiercely.
Her tone made Stafford turn toward her, and Terrill threw a startled glance over his shoulder.
“Why, it’s nothing much,” replied Stafford, puzzled. “He caught his foot in an old trap that was buried under some leaves.”
“Is it serious?”
“No, it isn’t—not if it’s properly looked after.”
“What are you doing for it?”
He looked at her with a faint frown, and her eyes met his steadily.