hat moment the short, stout doctor came through the door
in a rush. Sam Two had led him to believe that half the household had
been murdered. At first Dr. LeFrode started toward Val, until in alarm
the boy swung his feet to the floor and sat up, waving the man to the
stairway where Ricky hovered to act as guide.

Then Val was alone, even Sam Two having edged upstairs to share in the
excitement. The boy sank back on his pillows and wondered where their
late assailants were now, and why they had been so determined to learn
Jeems' secret. As Ricky had said once before, the Ralestones seemed to
have been handed a gigantic tangle without ends, only middle sections,
and had been told to unravel it.

Boot heels clicked on the stone flooring. Val turned his head cautiously
and tried not to wince. Rupert was coming in with a bowl of water, from
which steam still arose. Across his arm lay a towel and in his other
hand was their small first-aid kit.

"Suppose we do a little patching," he suggested. "Your face at present
is not all it might be. What did you and your swamp friend do--run into
a mowing machine?" He swabbed delicately at the cut the Boss had opened
across Val's cheek-bone, and at another by his mouth.

"I thought it might be that for a moment--a mowing machine, I mean. No,
we just met a couple of gentlemen--enterprising fellows who wanted to
see more of this commodious mansion of ours--" Val's words faded into a
sharp hiss as Rupert applied iodine with a liberal hand. "They seemed to
think that Jeems knew a lot about Pirate's Haven and they were going to
persuade him to tell all. Only it didn't turn out the way they had
planned."

"Due to you?" Rupert eyed his brother intently. The boy's face was
swollen almost out of recognition and he didn't like this sudden
talkativeness.

"Due partly to me, but mostly to Ricky. She--ah--created the necessary
diversion. I had sort of lost interest at the time. I know so little
about gouging and biting in clinches."

"Dirty fighters?"

"Well, soiled anyway. But if the Boss isn't nursing a cracked wrist, it
isn't my fault. I don't know what Jeems did to Red, but he, too,
departed in a damaged condition. Do you have to do that?" Val demanded
testily, squirming as Rupert ran his hands lightly over the boy's
shoulders and down his ribs, touching every bruise to tingling life.

"Just seeing the extent of the damage," he explained.

"You don't have to see, I can feel!" Val sna