“Three others,” weakly answered the bandit.
“Are the two here badly hurt?”
“I—I don’t know.”
“What’s the matter with you?”
“Splinter of rock hit me on the head,” groaned the fellow.
“You stand where you are if you know what is good for you,” directed Grace. “Get up!” she ordered, stepping over to the sitting bandit.
“I can’t. Got smacked in the laig an’ haid. I reckon I’ll git you yet fer this bizness.”
“Don’t threaten. Hippy!”
“Righto!”
“When you can leave your patient, please come here.”