Kitty, who had stood close beside Sandy throughout the battle, alternately wringing her hands and jumping up and down with excitement as Ralph seemed to be getting the worst or best of it, now ran forward. As the crowd cheered again, she hugged her man until he had to beg her to spare his bruised ribs.
“Kitty,” said Hall, when Ralph had been carried away on the shoulders of admiring Navajos and Hopis who had run over from the Council Hall to witness the fracas, “will you take Sandy home and patch him up? He has a pretty deep cut on his cheekbone. Better drive him over in the jeep, if he feels like he looks.
“I’ve got to talk to Ken White about Cavanaugh. This situation is getting out of hand. I’ll come over as soon as I can.”
Half an hour later, Sandy pushed aside the cold compresses that Mrs. Gonzales had been applying to his face and sat bolt upright on the couch where he had been lying.
“Kitty,” he gasped. “I just thought! What was it Cavanaugh said about a high sign or something?”
“When he was getting ready to kick you, you mean?” she frowned.
“Yes. It had to do with Donovan, I think. I was pretty groggy at the time.”
“Oh! He said something like ‘Won’t Donovan feel like a fool tomorrow if my high sign comes through!’”
“That’s it! That’s it!” Sandy yelled as he pushed Mrs. Gonzales’ fluttering hands away and scrambled to his feet. “It could only mean that he’s expecting some sort of message tonight over his light beam. Ralph’s tied up, so I’ve got to go up there and try to find out what it is.”
“Don’t be silly,” said Kitty. “You’ve taken a bad beating. You’re in no condition to go anywhere.”