"He has opened his eyes and said a few words. Doctor Roberts is here, and has stitched up his head, and says he will be all right in a week or two if we take good care of him." The room set aside for the hospital had a highly professional look. Wharton Kendrick lay on the same couch on which I had left him. Doctor Roberts was bending over him, carefully adjusting the bandage on his head. Near them I was surprised to see Danny Regan of the broken leg, attended by Mercy Fillmore, while at the other side of the room, propped up in an easy chair, was Moon Ying, looking on the scene with passive wonder. "Sit here," ordered Miss Kendrick, wheeling a big chair to the table, and I was glad to obey. "Yes," she continued, noting my scrutiny of Danny Regan and Moon Ying. "The cook complained of the groans she heard from the men’s room, so we found out what had happened and had the man brought here. And just before the rocks began to fly I had run up to see about Moon Ying, so I had her carried down. It was lucky I did, for we had hardly got out of the room when bang-cling! went every window in the front of the house. I thought she had best be on the ground floor in case of fire, and this room was as safe as any in the house. My! what a bump you did get. A riot is ’most as bad as falling downstairs, isn’t it?" With deft fingers she had wiped away the stains of battle, and now she wrung out a cloth in cold water, folded it into a compress, and bound it skilfully over my swollen forehead. I leaned back luxuriously, and gazed with admiration on my nurse. "It’s quite worth while, after all," I said. She colored, but looked steadily at me as she worked. "Don’t get too appreciative," she said. "Impossible!" I interrupted. "Because," she said, "I’m coming to believe that you’re not so badly hurt as your poor head looks. The blood on your face isn’t yours at all, but came from somebody else--" "You ought to see the other fellow," I murmured softly. "--and you’ve been getting sympathy under false pretenses, and I really think I ought to call Jane to look after you while I attend to uncle." "I shall sink into the last stages of dissolution," I protested, "if you turn me over to an incompetent nurse." "Incompetent! Why, Jane is twice as competent as I." "It depends on the complaint. I’m sure she wouldn’t understand mine at all." Laura smiled indulgently as she adjusted the last knot on the bandage. "There," she said, "you’re quite picturesque, and you’ll be all right in the morning. And I don’t think you need anybody to look after you at all." I was about to protest that my condition was most serious when she was called to Wharton Kendrick’s couch, and I caught Moon Ying’s eyes fixed on mine. I smiled and nodded, and she beckoned me, so I wheeled my chair to her side. "What I tell-em you?" she said. "I no go ’way, bad man come, all same shoot, fight, tly bu’n house, eh?"