Vicky seemed to think it would be, so she allowed herself to be led towards the house, while Dudley and Barbara took the wounded boy to the auto.
“Sure I’m not goin’ to no strange doctor?” the child questioned before he would set foot into the pretty little sport car with the “rumble seat” in the back. Barbara was to occupy that place, while Dudley and Nickolas rode in front.
“We’re going to my house,” Barbara answered him frankly. “You don’t think I’d fool you?”
“No; I guess not, you wouldn’t. But this don’t hurt much. Who’s going to brung Vicky home?”
“She’ll get a car ride too,” replied Dudley, supposing that would be cheering news.
“But no strangers don’t dast fetch her home!” cried the boy quivering with excitement.
“Why?” asked Dudley.
“Can’t no strangers go to our house,” the boy protested. His excitement was alarming, for the bandage around his hand was now dripping blood.
“Oh, look!” cried Barbara, “how your hand bleeds! You must keep quiet. Here, take this——”
“Wait a minute: I have some cheesecloth in the back of the car,” said Dudley, pulling into the curb so that he might stop the car. When he stepped out to get the cheesecloth from under the rumble seat, he whispered to Barbara: