The Andre Norton Megapack - 15 Classic Novels and Short Stories

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 until later,” Val suggested.
    “Ah played haunt!” the confession came out of the swamper in a rush.
    “Then you were my faceless ghost?”
    Jeems tried to nod and the action printed a frown of pain between his eyes.
    “Why? Didn’t you want us to live there?” asked Ricky gently.
    “Ah was huntin’—”
    “What for?”
    The frown became one of puzzlement. “Ah don’t know—” His voice trailed off into a thin whisper as his eyes closed wearily. Val signaled Ricky to keep quiet.
    “Ahoy there!” Along the bank toward them came Rupert and after him Sam. Beyond them lay the Ralestone landing. Val headed inshore.
    “Just what does this mean—Val! Has there been an accident?” The irritation in Rupert’s voice became hot concern.
    “An intended one,” his brother replied. “We’ve got the real victim here with us.”
    They tied up to the landing and Sam came down to hand out Jeems who apparently had lapsed into unconsciousness again.
    “You’d better call a doctor,” Val told Rupert. “Jeems has a head wound.”
    But Rupert had already taken charge of affairs with an efficiency which left Val humbly grateful. The boy didn’t even move to leave the boat. It was better just to sit and watch other people scurry about. Sam had started for the house, carrying Jeems as if the long-legged swamper was the same age and size as his own small son. Ricky dashed on ahead to warn Lucy. Rupert had Sam Two by the collar and was giving him instructions for catching Dr. LeFrode, who was probably making his morning rounds and might be found at the sugar-mill where one of the feeders had injured his hand. Sam Two’s sister had seen the doctor on his way there a scant ten minutes earlier.
    Val watched all this activity dreamily. Everything would be all right now that Rupert was in charge. He could relax—
    “Now,” his brother turned upon Val, “just what did—What’s the matter with you?”
    “Tired, I guess,” Val said ruefully. But Rupert was already in the boat, getting the younger boy to his unsteady feet.
    “Can you make it to the house?” he asked anxiously.
    “Sure. Just give me an arm till I get on the