"Sh'd think it might," grunted the proprietor, attending to his job with difficulty because Luke would squirm. "Hold still, will you, Luke?"
"Yo're taking twice as many stitches as necessary," grumbled Luke.
"I ain't," denied the proprietor. "And I got two more to take. HOLD
STILL!"
"Don't need to deafen me!" squalled Luke, indignantly.
"Shut up!" ordered the proprietor, who, for that he did not owe any money to Luke, was not prepared to pay much attention to his fussing. "If you think I'm enjoying this, you got another guess coming. And if you don't like the way I'm doing it, you can do it yoreself."
Luke stood up at last, a white bandage encircling his head, said that he was much obliged, and would like to borrow a lantern for a few moments.
"Aw, you don't need any lantern," objected the proprietor. "I forgot to fill mine to-day, anyway. Can't you find yore way to the hotel in the dark? That crack on the topknot didn't blind you, did it?"
"I lost something," explained Luke Tweezy. "When I fell down most all my money slipped out of my pocket."
"I'll get you a lantern then," grumbled the proprietor.
Ten minutes later Luke Tweezy, frantically quartering the floor of Tom Kane's barn, heard a slight sound and looked up to see Racey Dawson and Swing Tunstall standing in the doorway.