"Takes all kinds to make a world," he commented. "Don't look so horrified, Sis. This isn't the regular order of events. It's just an accumulation—and it sort of got me going. Here's the boys."

The four stretcher men set down their burden in the shade of the bunkhouse. Renfrew was conscious now.

"Tough luck, Jim," Benton sympathized. "Does it pain much?"

Renfrew shook his head. White and weakened from shock and loss of blood, nevertheless he bravely disclaimed pain.

"We'll get you fixed up at the Springs," Benton went on. "It's a nasty slash in the meat, but I don't think the bone was touched. You'll be on deck before long. I'll see you through, anyway."

They gave him a drink of water and filled his pipe, joking him about easy days in the hospital while they sweated in the woods. The drunken cook came out, carrying his rolled blankets, began maudlin sympathy, and was promp. . . Read More