I had been readjusting the handkerchief, but I happened to look up unexpectedly. My glance caught a flash of meaning that passed between the two. It seemed to hint at a triumphant mockery of my plight.
"Caine is a deep-sea brute, mean-hearted enough to be pleased at what has happened," I thought peevishly. Later I learned how wide of the mark my interpretation of that look had been.
A chorus of welcome greeted me as I passed up the gangway to the deck of the Argos. One voice came clear to me from the rest. It had in it the sweet drawl of the South.
"You're late again, Mr. Sedgwick. And—what's the matter with your head?"
"Nothing worth mentioning, Miss Wallace. Captain Bothwell has been trying to find what is inside of it. I think he found sawdust."
"You mean——"
"Knocked in the head as I came down to the wharf. Serves me right for being asleep at the switch. Think I'll run down to my room and wash the blood off."
Yeager offered to examine the wound. He had had some experience in broken heads among the boys at his ranch, he said.
"Perhaps I could dress the hurt. I had a year's training as a nurse," suggested Miss Wallace, a little shyly.
"Mr. Yeager is out of a job," I announced promptly.