Harry knew enough of the customs of the English countryside to understand
that the new tenants of Bray Park could not have chosen a surer method of
bringing down both dislike and suspicion upon themselves.
"That was a bit too thick, you know," Jack went on. "So when the war
started, I decided I'd keep my eyes open, especially on any strangers who
came around. So there you have it. I say! You'd better let me try to make
that ankle easier. You're limping badly."
That was true, and Harry submitted gladly to such ministrations as Jack
knew how to offer. Cold water helped considerably; it reduced the swelling.
And then Jack skillfully improvised a brace, that, binding the ankle
tightly, gave it a fair measure of support.
"Now try that!" he said. "See if it doesn't feel better!"
"It certainly does," said Harry. "You're quite a doctor, aren't you? Well,
now the next thing to do is to try to find where Dick is. I know where he
went--to the place where we cached our cycles and our papers."
Like Dick, he was hopelessly at sea, for the moment, as to his whereabouts.
And he had, moreover, to reckon with the turns and twists of the tunnel,
which there had been no way of following in the utter darkness. But Jack
Young, who, of course, could have found his way anywhere within five miles
of them blindfolded, helped him, and they soon found that they were less
than half a mile from the place.
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