pped pettishly.

Rupert got to his feet. "Come on."

"Where?"

"Oh, a hot bath and then bed. You'll be taking an interest in life again
about this time tomorrow. I think LeFrode had better see you too."

"No," Val objected. "I'm not a child."

Rupert grinned. "If you'd rather I carried you--"

There was no opposing Rupert when he was in that mood, as his brother
well knew. Val got up slowly.

The program that Rupert had outlined was faithfully carried out. Half an
hour later Val found himself between sheets, blinking at the ceiling
drowsily. When two cracks overhead wavered together of their own accord,
his eyes closed.

"--still sleeping?" whispered someone at his side much later.

"Yes, best thing for him."

"Was he badly hurt?"

"No, just banged around more than was good for him."

Val opened his eyes. It must have been close to dusk, for the sunlight
was red across the bedclothes. Rupert stood by the window and Ricky was
in the doorway, a tray of covered dishes in her hands.

"Hello!" Val sat up, grimacing at the twinge of pain across his back.
"What day is this?"

Rupert laughed. "Still Tuesday."

"How's Jeems?"

"Doing very well. I've had to have Rupert in to frighten him into
staying in bed," Ricky said. "The doctor thinks he ought to be there a
couple of days at least. But Jeems doesn't agree with him. Between
keeping Jeems in bed and keeping Rupert out of the swamp I've had a full
day."

Rupert sat down on the foot of the bed. "You'd know this Boss and Red
again, wouldn't you?"

"Of course."

"Then you'll probably have a chance to identify them." There was a grim
look about Rupert's jaw. "Ricky's told me all that you overheard. I
don't know what it means but I've heard enough for me to get in touch
with LeFleur. He'll be out tomorrow morning. And once we get something
to work on--"

"I'm beginning to feel sorry for our swamp visitors," Val interrupted.

"They'll be sorry," hinted Rupert darkly. "How about you, Val, beginning
to feel hungry?"

"Now that you mention it, I _am_ discovering a rather hollow ache in my
center section. Supper ready?"

"Half an hour. I'll bring you up a tray--" began Ricky.

But Val had thrown back the sheet and was sitting on the side of the
bed. "Oh, no, you don't! I'm not an invalid yet."

Ricky glanced at Rupert and then left. Val reached for his shirt
defiantly. But his brother raised no objection. The painful stiffness
Val had felt at first wore