“Not for me!” answered Hal. “If you have a bit of sticking plaster——”
“The worst thing in the world!” cried Ruth. “Come! I insist! And then, Luke, I want you to tell us what you meant when you said you remembered those men.”
“That’s so!” exclaimed Neale. “You didn’t let out a word about that when we were chasing them.”
“We needn’t ask if you got them,” commented Agnes.
“That’s right—they gave us the slip,” remarked Luke, ruefully.
He and Hal suffered their hands to be treated with the iodine, and Luke created laughter by pretending to cry when the fluid stung, as it certainly did, for he had rather a deep cut, caused when his hand came in contact with a brick wall as he and Neale swung around a corner in futile pursuit of the strange men.
“Thanks,” murmured Hal, when his hand had been dressed. “I shall recommend you to the Red Cross, Ruth.”
“Oh, Ruth is a dandy little nurse,” added Luke. “I can certify to that. You ought to have her hold your hand and rub your head when it aches, Hal.”
“Oh, such a pain!” cried Hal, clasping his brow with an assumed agonized look on his face.
“Silly!” murmured Ruth, blushing as she put away the iodine. “And now, if your fever isn’t too high,” she went on with gentle sarcasm to Luke, “you might tell us what you remembered.”