The Overlanders shouted to him, but the wind was against them and Hippy did not even know that they were calling.
“Someone run to camp and fetch a bath towel,” urged Grace. “Never mind, I’ll go,” she added, starting away at a run for the camp. Grace was back ere Lieutenant Wingate reached the shore. Tom was there to meet him, and assisted Hippy, dripping, and blue of face and lips, to his feet.
“Here, Tom. Take the towel and give Hippy a brisk rub-down.”
“How—where?” gasped Tom.
“Anywhere. Go out in the bushes, do it anywhere, but for goodness sake don’t delay. What did you find?”
“Nothing—not a single thing to indicate anything,” answered Lieutenant Wingate dully.
“Please hurry! Don’t you see that Hippy has a chill, Tom?”
Tom Gray hustled his companion out of sight, then stripped him and gave him a brisk rubdown, so brisk in fact that Hippy finally begged him to stop.
“I shan’t have any skin left if you go one rub further,” he complained.
“Here is Hippy’s other suit,” called Nora. “How is he?”