Zaidos stared first at Velo, then at the revolver still in his hand.
"How did that happen?" he demanded in a low, tense voice.
Velo swallowed and cleared his throat.
"The thing went off," he said huskily.
"Well, it came near doing for me," said Zaidos, still staring suspiciously at Velo. "You let me have that revolver! Yon are too funny with things to suit me."
Velo, still pale, smiled a wry, twisted smile. "I'm sorry," he lied. "I don't see how it happened. It must be out of order."
"Give it to me!" said Zaidos, "and take the front of this stretcher. I've got to look out for accidents, it seems. I never saw anything so careless in my life. You have just got to be careful, Velo! I won't stand for it! This isn't the first time I've nearly come to harm through your carelessness, if you want to call it that. I tell you I won't stand for it! Mind, I don't make any accusations; and I don't claim you are to blame for a lot of things that have happened to me lately, but if things don't stop, why, you are going to be sorry! There won't be any revolvers going off, and your bed won't go down, and your medicine won't get exchanged for poison, like it sometimes happens. I shall just take you out back of the next wire entanglement, and I will give you a good beating up, Velo. I remember I used to have to do it when we were about four years old. It used to do you a lot of good, and I suppose all these years since you have had no one to keep you where you belonged. I won't do this, you understand, unless you get careless with guns and things again. You hear, Velo?"
Velo made no reply.
The two boys carefully bearing the stretcher tramped along in silence.
"You hear, Velo?" said Zaidos again. "Honestly, the more I think of it, the madder I get!"