"Then you will find your friend a few paces beyond."
Turning, she walked to the mouth of the well. Beside it lay Chick, with a broken leg, and a face covered with blood.
"He's not dead; he's not badly hurt," explained the woman quickly. "His skull is not injured. Bruises and cuts have caused the blood."
"She's right, all right," spoke Chick faintly; "but I'll feel better if some one will wash my face and put my leg straight."
The great detective bent over his disabled and suffering assistant, pressed his hand affectionately, and breathed consoling words into his ear. Then he lifted the body in his strong arms and started for the river. "Patsy," he said, "try to induce Mrs. Mannion to accompany us."
"I will go without compulsion," she said meekly. "I have done all the evil that I intend to do."
Nick frowned. Perhaps she had done all that was necessary. In crossing the river Nick and Chick used the batteau. Patsy and Mrs. Mannion took the punt.
Chick was taken to Craven's house, and a surgeon was telephoned for. An hour after the surgeon's arrival Chick was resting quietly, with his limb set and the wounds on his face and head washed and dressed.
"He will be all right in a few weeks," said the surgeon. "Nursing is all he requires."