"Let me see," begged Leon. "Take your hands away from your face."
Jacques made no answer but continued his vain efforts to rise.
With difficulty Leon forced his hands from his face. Jacques was now bespattered with blood which spurted from a long gash running from his left eye to the corner of his mouth.
"Lie down, Jacques," begged Leon anxiously.
Without a word the wounded boy stretched himself out upon his back in the ditch. Leon reached for his emergency dressing and began to do what he could for the young Frenchman.
"A steel splinter hit me, I guess," murmured Jacques.
"I should say it did," agreed Leon soberly. "It's a lucky thing it didn't hit your eye. How do you feel?"
"All right. Pretty weak though."
"A doctor ought to dress that wound," said Leon. "You can't leave this place before dark though; it would be sure death to try."
"Oh, I'm all right enough," said Jacques. "This is only a scratch."