tenth of the effort they had expended. But
all he ever wondered afterward was how they ever did it at all.

[Illustration: _At the bayou at last, they wriggled Jeems awkwardly into
the boat._]

It was when Ricky had made their passenger as comfortable as she could
in the bottom of the boat, steadying his head across her knees, that her
brother partially relaxed.

"Val, you run the engine," she said without looking up.

He dragged himself toward the stern of the boat, remembering too late,
when he had cast off, that he had not taken the canoe in tow. The engine
coughed, sputtered, and then settled down to a steady _putt-putt_. They
were off.

"Val, do you--do you think he is badly hurt?"

He dared not look down; it required all his powers of concentration on
what lay before them to keep his hand steady.

"No. We'll get a doctor when we get back. He'll come around again in no
time--Jeems, I mean."

But would he? Head injuries were sometimes more serious than they
seemed, Val remembered dismally.

It was not until they came out into the main bayou that Jeems roused
again. He looked up at Ricky in a sort of dull surprise, and then his
gaze shifted to Val.

"What--"

"We won the war," Val tried to grin, an operation which tore his mask of
dried blood, "thanks to Ricky. And now we're going home."

At that, Jeems made a violent effort to sit up.

"_Non_!" his English deserted him and he broke into impassioned French.

"Yes," Val replied firmly as Ricky pushed the swamper down. "Of course
you're coming with us. You've had a nasty knock on the head that needs
attention."

"Ah'm not a-goin' to no hospital!" His eyes burned into Val's.

"Certainly not!" cried Ricky. "You're bound for our guest-room. Now keep
quiet. We'll be there soon."

"Ah ain't a-goin'," he declared mutinously.

"Don't be silly," Ricky scolded him; "we're taking you. Does Val have to
come and hold you down?"

"Ah can't!" His eyes flickered from Val's face to hers. There was
something more than independence behind that firm refusal. "Ah ain't
a-goin' theah."

"Why not?"

He seemed to shrink from her. "It ain't fitten," he murmured.

"How perfectly silly," laughed Ricky. But Val thought that he
understood.

"Because of the secret you know?" he asked quietly.

The pallor beneath Jeems' heavy tan vanished in a flush of slow-burning
red. "Ah reckon so," he muttered, but he met Val's eyes squarely.

"Let's leave all explanations unt