"Oh, I'm tired," Jack declared ungraciously, "and there's nothing to explain, anyway."
The desultory conversation that followed was almost wholly between Rosemary and Richard. Jack was curiously silent and Doctor Hugh, too, seemed content to listen. Finally he rose.
"We must be getting back," he said. "First though, I'll take a look at your hand, Jack."
"There's nothing the matter with it," countered Jack gruffly.
"You act remarkably like Sarah," was Doctor Hugh's response to this. "Come in where I can have a light and don't be foolish."
Jack followed him sulkily and Rosemary and Richard watched while the doctor unwound the cloth that bound the injured finger. The cut was an angry-looking one.
"Needs attention," Doctor Hugh commented briefly. "Do you want to come up to the house with me, or shall I send Rosemary for the iodine bottle?"
Jack elected to remain where he was, and Rosemary sped away to get bandages and antiseptics. Mrs. Hildreth's tea kettle was requisitioned for a supply of hot water and then the doctor washed and dressed the cut, Jack enduring the process gamely.
"I won't knock off," he said defiantly as the last gauze fold was fastened in place. "I'm going to pick tomatoes, if I have to do it with my left hand."
"You can use your hand, if you'll keep the bandages in place," the doctor assured him. "I'll dress it again for you in the morning—and don't let me have to send for you. When you have had breakfast, come and get your hand attended to, before you go into the field."