"We must put it in a splint and bandage it," promptly answered Sheila, looking around her as though to find the necessary things.
"I know--I know! There's the white stuff Aunt Pen got at the Red Cross, we can use that! She forgot it--it's in the car."
"That will be just the thing!"
"Get it, Renée! And here are some sticks--won't they do for splints?" asked Patricia eagerly.
"It ought to be something firmer, at least until the bone is set." Sheila was straightening out the poor little leg with so gentle a touch that the dog only whimpered. "If you'd let me use your scarf we could make a sort of pillow----"
For answer Pat snatched the woolen scarf from her shoulders. Sheila, rolled it tightly into a firm pillow. Renée had returned with Aunt Pen's package and she and Patricia commenced tearing it into strips. Their fingers, eager though they were, made awkward work of it.
"Let me do it! You hold his leg," exclaimed Sheila. She tore off strips two inches wide. Then she neatly covered the woolen scarf with a wider piece. Renée and Pat, deeply concerned, leaned over the dog and watched. Pat held the injured leg and Renée gently stroked the dog's head.
"Isn't he a darling?" cried Pat. "I just hate Watkins for hurting him!"
"It wasn't Watkin's fault--he might have saved the dog and had a serious accident and hurt--you girls! The dog ran out in front of the car! This will be a lesson to him."
The splint ready Sheila gently placed it under the dog's leg and instructed Pat how to hold it in place. She wound the bandage around and around, careful to avoid the break, but firmly, so as to hold the splint securely in place. Then she straightened up from her kneeling position with a long breath.