"I do not like to disturb anyone," he said slowly, "but if one of the young ladies is disengaged I would be grateful if she looks at my arm."
"Your arm!" exclaimed Beth, regarding him wonderingly as he stood before her.
Maurie smiled.
"It is hardly worth mentioning, mamselle, but a bullet—"
"Take off your coat," she commanded, rising from her seat to assist him.
Maurie complied. His shirt was stained with blood. Beth drew out her scissors and cut away the sleeve of his left arm. A bullet had passed directly through the flesh, but without harming bone or muscle.
"Why didn't you tell us before?" she asked reproachfully.
"It amounted to so little, beside the other hurts you had to attend," he answered. "I am shamed, mamselle, that I came to you at all. A little water and a cloth will make it all right."
Patsy had already gone for the water and in a few minutes Beth was deftly cleansing the wound.