"Dunny," I implored, "listen! You have got to find out for me about a
girl. How am I to tell you, though? If I start the story, you'll think
I'm raving."
"I know all about it, Dev," my guardian reassured me. "I've seen Miss
Falconer. She's absolutely safe."
If that were so, I could relax, and I did with fervent thankfulness. Not
for long, however; my brain had begun to work.
"See here! I want to know who has been playing football with me," was my
next demand, which Dunny answered obligingly, if with a slightly dubious
face.
"That French doctor, nice young chap, said you weren't to talk," he
muttered, "but if I were in your place I'd want to know a few things
myself. It was this way, Dev. A fragment of a shell struck you--"
"A fragment!" I raised weak eyebrows. "I know better. Twenty shells at
least, and whole!"
"--and didn't strike your Teuton friends," he charged on, suddenly
purple of visage. "It was a true German shell, my boy, the devil looking
after his own. The man in the seat with you was cut up a bit; the other
two were thrown clear of the motor.
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