"Yes, you will!" jeered Greg. "Dick, you won't run for a few
days to come, anyway."
"A nice lot we are, to set out to aid the law's officers," remarked
Dave disgustedly. "Dick can take only a half a step per minute.
Mr. Valden can use only one hand. Greg's head looks gory. The
lot of us couldn't scare a baby now!"
"I can still say, boo!" Prescott laughed.
"Is it wise to try to do so much walking?" questioned Darry, as
Greg went back to the creek to wash the blood from the shallow
cut on his forehead.
"Yes; for I don't want to grow stiff until I'm where I can take
care of myself," Dick answered, taking a few more steps. "No;
don't help me. I want to move alone, and I'm strong enough for
that."
So Dave threw himself on the grass to rest until he bethought
himself that, wet as they all were, it might be a good idea to
build a fire for drying purposes.
He busied himself in that way, while Dick started slowly, very
painfully, down the road. Only a step at a time could he go.
Greg, returning, ran after him, but Prescott sent him back, so
Holmes stretched himself on the ground near the fire.
At times Dick found he could move about very easily. Then the
hip would stiffen and he would be obliged to lean against a tree
for a few moments.
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