She did not speak again until the doctor had completed his examination and had bandaged Anchor Joe’s cuts and bruises.
“What do you advise, doctor?” she asked. “Will it be necessary to remove Joe to a hospital?”
“Neither advisable nor desirable for at least twenty-four hours,” he replied. “I find no indication of internal injury, but it is best to be safe. The patient should be kept quiet, in bed, for at least a day or two.”
“It’s something of a problem to care for him here,” said Penny frowning. “Do you suggest a nurse?”
“Any woman who has had practical experience in caring for the sick would do.”
“Mrs. Weems may be willing to come,” said Penny. “I’ll telephone home at once and learn what arrangements can be made.”
When the doctor left, Penny accompanied him as far as the first house. From there she telephoned her father, who promised to get Mrs. Weems and come at once to the cottage.
Louise was uneasily waiting by the time Penny returned. Outside the bedroom they held whispered consultation.
“Has Anchor Joe talked?” Penny questioned. “You know what I mean. Has he said anything about John Munn or the tattoo?”
“Not a word. But every so often he mutters that he’ll get even with someone by the name of Otto—a fellow sailor who ‘ratted.’”