“Hurray!” rang out again and again, and the poor fellows joined in the cheers, for they could see nothing but the welcome waiting for them, and feel nothing but the fact that they had gone to clear out the horrible hornets’ nest with fire, and that the task had been splendidly done.
Chapter Twelve.
After the Lesson.
As the suffering party gathered together upon the river shore preparatory to embarking in the boats, Murray’s first care was to see that A.B. Titely was placed where he could lie down and rest, and while looking after the poor fellow, and seeing that he was one of the first to be helped into the stern sheets of the first cutter, Roberts came up.
“Oh, I say!” he cried. “Who’s that wounded?”
“Hallo! Who are you?” said his fellow middy sharply. “Don’t disturb the poor fellow.”
“Why, eh? Yes—no,” cried Roberts, with a mock display of interest, “I was wondering where—well—it can’t be! Why, Frank, you do look a pretty sweep! Hardly knew you. I say: is it you?”
“Is it I, indeed!” growled Murray. “You’re a pretty fellow to try that on! Go and look at your face in the water if you can find a still pool. I might grin at you.”