While Bethel continued to gaze wonderingly, my recent antagonist came to my assistance.
"You may as well answer him, boy," "our old woman" said. "If you don't, some day he'll be accusing you of ingratitude. And then this is one of the very rare instances when the scamp may put his knowledge to good use."
Bethel looked from the doctor's face to mine, and smiled faintly.
"I am overpowered by numbers," he said; "put your questions, then."
"Did you dress a wound for Louis Brookhouse?"
"Yes."
"A wound in the leg?"
"Yes, the right leg."
"Was it a bullet wound?"