“I tell you,” Frederic was saying,—his voice was calmer but determined,—“we’ve got to get these people to a doctor. It’s too heartless. I will not leave them here.”
“And betray us at the last moment, when our plans are all ready,” snarled old Otto.
“There is less danger if we bundle them into the car and take them with us than if we leave them here,” protested Frederic. “Two bodies right here at the entrance would be fine, nicht wahr?”
His last remark appealed to old Otto.
“That is so,” he muttered. “It is not safe. We must hide the bodies, both of them, yes?”
The bodies! Jane decided that Dean must have been killed and that they thought that she, too, was dead. As she strove to open her eyes she could hear Frederic protesting.
“It’s inhuman,” he cried. “They both are hurt, but perhaps still alive. We must take them to a hospital.”
“And endanger all our plans,” stormed old Otto. “Throw them into the woods.”
“We’ll do nothing of the sort,” Frederic insisted, his voice becoming unusually stern and severe. “I’m going to get both of these people to a doctor at once, I tell you.”
With effort Jane opened her eyes and looked cautiously about. Where was Thomas Dean? How badly had he been hurt? The Hoffs’ automobile was slowly backing up. As she looked old Otto sprang out of it and righted the motorcycle. As he did so Jane saw the body of Dean lying senseless beneath it, but to him the old German paid no attention. He was examining the motorcycle and still sputtering that the swine should be left to rot.