“The bone is all right,” said Syd, continuing his examination; “but the bullet must be there. Look: here it is!”
In fact there it was, lying in the sleeve, having passed clean through, and of course making a second wound.
“There, that will not hurt,” said Syd, coolly. “Now let’s see about his chest.”
“No,” yelled Pan, bursting into a fit of blubbering; “there arn’t nothing there. T’other one missed me.”
The boatswain drew himself up and seemed to be taking a tremendously long breath.
“I’m very glad, Pan,” said Syd. “Now, come, be a man. I’m just going to put a little pellet of rag over those two holes, and bind them up tightly. I won’t hurt you much.”
“No, no, no,” howled Pan; “you’ll take it off. I won’t have it cut off.”
“I tell you I’m going to bandage your arm up, and you’ll have it in a sling.”
“No, no,” yelled Pan.
“And on’y winged him arter all,” cried the boatswain in his familiar gruff tones.