"
"So. How much'll you gamble?" asked Laddy, instantly.
The ringing of a bell, which Belding said was a call to supper,
turned the men back toward the house. Facing that way, Gale
saw dark, beetling ridges rising from the oasis and leading up to
bare, black mountains. He had heard Belding call them No Name
Mountains, and somehow the appellation suited those lofty,
mysterious, frowning peaks.
It was not until they reached the house and were about to go in
that Belding chanced to discover Gale's crippled hand.
"What an awful hand!" he exclaimed. "Where the devil did you
get that?"
"I stove in my knuckles on Rojas," replied Dick.
"You did that in one punch? Say, I'm glad it wasn't me you hit!
Why didn't you tell me? That's a bad hand. Those cuts are full
of dirt and sand. Inflammation's setting in. It's got to be
dressed. Nell!" he called.
There was no answer. He called again, louder.
"Mother, where's the girl?"
"She's there in the dining-room," replied Mrs. Belding.
"Did she hear me?" he inquired, impatiently.
"Of course."
"Nell!" roared Belding.
This brought results. Dick saw a glimpse of golden hair and a
white dress in the door. But they were not visible longer than
a second.
"Dad, what's the matter?" asked a voice that was still as sweet
as formerly, but now rather small and constrained.
"Bring the antiseptics, cotton, bandages--and things out here.
Hurry now."
Belding fetched a pail of water and a basin from the kitchen.
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