"Kenneth, you'd better get your face washed and the worst of the stains out of that shirt before your mother sees you. I'll talk to you later." He turned around. "Charles, if you'd go with him, and perhaps take the same advice, I'd appreciate it. I should like very much to hear exactly what caused this nonsense."
The boys made no answer, but started down toward the lagoon. now very much ashamed of themselves. Bob, Norman, and Hugh followed them. Bob and Hugh had heard the start of the trouble but had no intention of telling anyone until the principals of the affair had decided what should be told.
Mr. Kinnaird knew his son and the latter's friends well enough to guess this, and it was only that knowledge which enabled him to keep quiet as he rounded the lower end of the tank and came face to face with the party.
"I have some salt-water soap in the jeep," he remarked. "I'll get it, if one of you will take this blade up to Mr. Meredith at the saw." He moved as though to scale the disk-shaped object, which the boys had not noticed he was carrying, at Colby, who automatically slipped to one side. Recovering himself, Colby hooked a finger through the center hole of the blade and turned back uphill with it, while Mr. Kinnaird headed around the corner of his vehicle. The boys accepted the soap gratefully-Rice, in particular, had been worrying about his mother's reaction to the sight of his bloodstained shirt.
Half an hour later, the stains gone, he was worrying about her reaction to a pair of beautifully blacked eyes. He had kept his teeth by some miracle, but Bob and Norman, who were administering first aid, admitted that it would be some time before casual observers would quit asking him about his fight. Teroa was considerably better off in that respect; his face had been reached just once, and the swelling should go down in a day or two.
All animosity had vanished by this time; both combatants had spent much of the time apologizing to each other while their injuries were being worked on. Even Bob and Norman were amused to see them walking side by side back up the hill to face Mr. Rice.
"Well," Hay remarked at last, "we told Red he was asking for it. I hope he doesn't get into too much trouble, though; Charlie gave him enough. Those peepers are going to take a long time to forget, I'd say."
Bob nodded in agreement. "He certainly picked a bad time for his wisecracks-right after Charlie said he wasn't going. He must have been feeling pretty bad."
"I didn't hear that. Did he say why he wasn't going? It's news to me."
"No." Bob remembered in time that he was not supposed to know, either. "No, there wasn't time for explanations after that; things happened too fast. I don't suppose it would be smart to ask now, either, though he may have told Red by this time. Shall we go back up and see?"
"I don't think it would do much good. Besides, I still haven't put the grating in that pool of mine-we've been spending so much time fixing the boat and working up here. What say we go out and do that? We don't need the boat; the stuff is out there, and we can swim across from the beach."
Bob hesitated. This seemed a good opportunity of seeing the doctor and getting another drug written off the list- he was not very optimistic on this point, as may be seen -but he was still not quite sure how to get away from his friend; he still had an exaggerated fear of betraying his real motives.
"What about Hugh?" he asked. "He hasn't come down from delivering that saw blade yet. Maybe he'd like to go."
"He's probably found something else to do up there. I think I'll go back myself, if you don't want to work on the pool. You coming, or have you something else to do?"
"I did think of something," Bob replied. "I think I'll look after it now."
"O.K. I'll see you later." Hay went back up the hill after the still-visible fighters without a backward glance, while Bob, wondering how much the other suspected, turned along the shore toward the big dock. He walked slowly, since he had much to think about; but he said nothing, and the Hunter forbore to disturb him. The alien had thoughts of his own, in any case.
At the shoreward end of the dock they turned up the road past the Teroa house, turned right there, and presently reached the home of the doctor. Here his plans, such as they were, were interrupted by the sight of a sign on the door which said the doctor was out on professional business, time of return uncertain.
The door was never locked, as Bob well knew. After a moment's consideration he opened it and went into the office. He could wait, and the doctor was bound to be back before too long. Besides, there were other books there, books which he had not read and which might prove interesting or useful. He investigated the shelves, helped himself to several promising titles, and sat down to deal with them.
He made heavy weather of the job: they were technical works, intended for professional readers, and they pulled no punches when it came to medical terms. Bob was far from stupid, but he simply did not have the knowledge needed to interpret very much of what they said. In consequence, his mind wandered frequently and far from the printed matter.
Naturally much of his thinking was about the afternoon's rather unusual events. More of it dealt with his problem. He had even asked the Hunter point-blank what he thought about the conclusions reached the night before-the strong suspicions Bob and Seever had developed toward Hay and Rice. He did so now.
"I have avoided criticizing your efforts," replied the Hunter, "since it seems to me that, however wrong your conclusions appear, you still have reason for them. I prefer not to tell you my opinions about Rice and Hay, or even about the other boys, for if I were to discourage your ideas on the grounds that they disagreed with mine, I might as well be working alone."
It was an indirect speech, but Bob suspected that the alien disagreed with their ideas. He could not see why- the logic used by the doctor and himself seemed sound -but he realized that the Hunter must have more knowledge about the creature they were seeking than he could impart in a lifetime.
Still, what could be wrong? Strictly speaking, they had reached no actual conclusions-they knew their limitations and had spoken only of probabilities. If the Hunter objected to that, then he should have a certainty!
"I have nothing certain," was the answer, however, when this line of reasoning was expounded to the detective, and Bob settled back to think some more. He got results, but this time he had no chance to discuss them with the Hunter, for just as the idea struck him, he heard the doctor's step on the front porch. Bob sprang to his feet, concentrating tensely; then, as the door opened, he turned to the entering figure.
"I've got some news," he said. "You can let Charlie go tomorrow, after all, and we can forget about Red too!"
Chapter XVIII. ELIMINATION
THE DOCTOR had stopped as he heard Bob's excited voice; now he finished closing the door behind him and moved to his usual chair.
"I'm glad to hear it," he said. "I have some news also. Suppose you give me the details first. Has the Hunter been making tests on his own?"
"No, I have. I mean, it's something I saw. I didn't realize what it meant until just now.
"Charlie and Red had a fight up by the new tank. It started when Red kidded him about not going away tomorrow-I suppose he must have seen you just before. Any way, they both went right up in the air; they were swinging for all they were worth. They both picked up a lot of bruises-Ken has a beautiful pair of shiners-and they both had first-class nosebleeds when we got 'em apart!"