He glanced at Roy significantly.
If any one else had saved his life and Roy were asked to say nothing of it, he would have refused immediately. The smallest recompense one may offer to his rescuer is to acknowledge the debt publicly. But between these two there was no such formality. They were not concerned with what others thought of their relationship to one another. Calmly each accepted the full devotion of his brother, knowing that his own was accepted in turn. Thus, when Teddy signified that he did not wish known the part he had played in saving Roy, the other agreed at once to keep the true story hidden.
“All right, I crawled ashore,” Roy said. “And if you feel like playing doctor, go right ahead.”
He edged the pony toward Teddy and submitted to the ministrations of his brother. When the large handkerchief had been tied about the cut, Teddy removed his hat and placed it lightly on his brother’s head. Roy’s own hat was floating somewhere in Rocky Run River.
“It won’t hurt you with that bandage on,” he declared. “And this sun is pretty strong. No, leave it tilted that way.”
“Yes, doctor,” Roy replied meekly. “Anything you say. Now they’ll think I’m a gunman.”
“You look like a pirate,” Teddy laughed. “How does that bronc ride, Roy?”
“Pretty steady. Shakes now and then, that’s all. Jiminy! I didn’t notice that long scratch on Star’s hind leg.” He glanced down at the pony Teddy was leading. “Let me take him for a while.”
“No, you’ve got enough to attend to,” Teddy insisted. “Star’s all right. Needs a good rubdown, that’s all, and he’ll soon get it. We’ll be at the ranch in fifteen minutes.”
“Meantime—” Roy pulled his pony to a halt and began searching through his pockets.