“Those sort of sportsmen always fetch lots of liquor along with them into the woods,” asserted Phil; “and it might be one of them had a fit of delirium tremens, so that he even tried to shoot up the camp, and had to be restrained.”
“Well, now, there might be something in that,” admitted X-Ray, nodding his head reflectively. “And p’raps right now they’ve got a badly wounded man over there, with no doctor inside of a hundred miles.”
“I was thinking of that,” ventured Phil; and something in his tone and manner caused Ethan to instantly leap to a conclusion.
“Were you figuring on going over that way, Phil?” he demanded, “and offering to help that tough crowd if they needed any assistance, you knowing so much about looking after gunshot hurts that we often threatened to call you Doctor Bradley?”
“Yes, I was considering doing that,” Phil said, smiling, “though there might be no necessity for our entering the camp, if we seemed to find it all serene.”
“I take note of the fact,” continued Ethan, “that you use the plural pronoun ‘we,’ Phil, which would indicate that you meant to have one of us go along. I’d like to speak for that privilege, if it’s all the same to you.”
“Shucks! you beat me out in saying that, hang the luck, Ethan,” grumbled X-Ray Tyson, who was not often caught napping, and therefore felt additionally sore in connection with this instance.
“Yes, if we think it a wise thing to do, you might as well help me out, Ethan,” Phil told him; at which the Allen boy grinned happily, and could not keep from casting a side look full of triumph toward X-Ray.
“I don’t see that it could do any harm,” Lub advanced in his ponderous way, “if you scouted in that direction. You wouldn’t have to brush in on them unless you saw signs that they were all mixed up, and in need of the right kind of help. And like as not you’d easily enough be able to find out what all the row was about, so as to tell us stay-at-homes.”
“Come on, let’s go, Phil?”