For once Selwyn's saint-like patience failed him.
“Oh, shut up whining, Minnie!” he exclaimed forcefully. “It would be more to the point if you got down on your knees and said thank you to some one or something instead of grousing like that!”
He turned hurriedly to Garth, who was flashing his lantern hither and thither, locating the damage done.
“Look here,” he said. “Young Durward's upstairs. We must get him down.”
“Where does he sleep? One side of the house is staved in.”
“He's not that side, thank Heaven! But the odds are he's badly hurt. And, anyway, he's helpless. I was just going up to carry him down when that damned bomb got us.”
Garth swung out into the hall and sent a ringing shout up through the house. An instant later Tim's answer floated down to them.
“All serene! Can't move!”
Again Garth sent his voice pealing upwards—
“Hold on! We'll be with you in a minute.”