It was Westy, his clothes now just a few rags covering his raw swollen flesh and his face puffed and deathly white. With great effort he was carrying Rip, whose inert body hung over his shoulder.
As he stumbled toward them, his feet pitifully cut and bleeding, they could hear him babbling unintelligible words to the unconscious boy.
Hurrying to relieve him of his burden, he pushed them aside—holding fast to Rip as a mother would her child in great danger. His brain, sick as it was, could not crush the spirit that was Westy Martin nor deter him from keeping trust.
His ague-stricken form straightened up as if to defy them to bar his way. A look of inanity filled his usual bright expressive eyes and when he spoke his voice had been reduced to almost a whisper from his weakened state.
“Must—get—him—back! Not ’nother night without water!”
CHAPTER XXXVI—BILLY DOES SOME REMINDING
As a result of Lola’s insistence, the two emaciated boys lay that night in the cottage, still very sick, but in competent hands.
The Redmonds had to learn everything in life by experience and their knowledge of all human ills was derived from that same source.
All through that night Mr. Wilde, Billy and the two emergency nurses waited anxiously for the delirious chatter to stop—to hear the gratifying sound of slow yet steady breathing that means normal sleep. And their waiting was not in vain.
Many days passed before Westy and Rip were able to recognize their surroundings and friends. And then their recovery was rapid.