"Only my hand," announced her brother, with a feeble, ill-disguised attempt at unconcern as he withdrew the badly-bandaged member from the flap of his coat.
"What! Are we still under fire?"
"No; this occurred five or six hours ago. It's a clean wound."
Gently the two girls attended to the injury. The handkerchief had to be soaked before it could be withdrawn from the wound. In five minutes the now experienced young nurses had washed the place with antiseptic and had bound it with lint.
"Right as anything now," declared Kenneth. "I'll have my coffee and get on deck again."
"You had far better rest," replied his sister; "and Rollo, too, is steering; in spite of his wounded wrist. I'll go and take the wheel; it won't be the first time."
Kenneth gave in without a protest. He was "about done". Obediently he stretched himself upon one of the cushions of the bunk and closed his eyes.
Bidding Yvonne keep a watch on the patient, Thelma donned her cloak and went out into the cockpit.
Rollo, too, offered no objections to being relieved of his duty. The vibration of the wheel, almost unnoticeable under ordinary circumstances, was causing his wrist intense pain. He handed Thelma the charge of the helm, told her what course to take, and sat down, admiring, in spite of his physical anguish, the alert, self-possessed girl as she toyed with the spokes of the wheel with the ease of a practised helmsman.
"We're up to that vessel, Rollo," she reported, after an hour had passed. Owing to her superior speed the motor-boat had rapidly gained upon the lumbering ten-knot tramp which was now a couple of cables distant on the port hand.