“We are sure,” drawled Gar, “that the injuries are fatal.”
“Fatal?” repeated his sister. “You mean serious.”
“No, I don’t either. I mean—”
“Ouch!” yelled Rosa. “There you all go; mocking me. That’s the worst it has hurt—yet—”
Which turn of affairs fully decided Dell, for she gave definite orders then that Gar should stop for Doctor Easton, loquaciously called by Rosa, the dopy-doc.
“I’ll tell him to come out tonight,” she declared in the face of Rosa’s pleas and protests. “Can’t tell what a game ankle may do, and while I’m in charge—”
“You’re perfectly right,” insisted Nancy under her breath, rejoicing that someone would take Rosa in actual charge.
“And we’ll all be so late—” grumbled Gar, in that good-natured way boys have, “that our family will have the megaphone out. Nancy,” he said politely, remembering that she was, after all, something of a stranger, “whenever you hear the megaphone you’ll know there is nothing the matter. It’s mother’s warning to be careful of the water.”
“Now watch Margot take a fit when she sees you help me—please don’t call Baldy, Dell, he uses hair-oil,” said Rosa, when the car was pulled up in front of the side porch and the girls with Gar were promptly alighting, “and he’s sure to sling me over his shoulder, if he gets the chance.”
The next half hour was consumed in getting Rosa installed in her bed and “fussed up”, as Nancy put it, and also in the appeasing of Margot, who would not be satisfied with the account of the accident.