"And doesn't anyone know but what you're drowned?"
"Only you, … an' I!"
"Good! We'll teach the guys a lesson. Here, let me give you a good rub down. Darn this injured knee, anyhow. Just when a fellow needs help the most I can't be of much assistance. Now listen, you lay low when the bunch comes back. Get under the bed or somewhere. I'll pretend I don't know where you are. We'll teach them to play any more practical jokes!"
Judd grinned. "That 'ud kind of be turnin' the tables, eh?"
"Kind of, you bet! I hear somebody coming upstairs now! Take this alcohol bottle and rub yourself good to keep from catching cold. Get into the closet out of sight. Quick!"
Cateye waited until the footsteps reached the head of the stairs, then flung open the door and limped into the hall on his crutch. He met face to face with Benz.
"Rather late turning in, aren't you? Say, … do you know where Judd is? I'm getting rather anxious. It's two o'clock and after, … and he never kept very late hours!"
Benz's face was a pale white; his lips were trembling; he seemed near collapse.
"He's, … he's, … I think he's drowned!"
"What!" Cateye's concern was extremely realistic. "Drowned!"