“Where’s Ross?” Cargraves persisted. “We’ve got to get him to a hospital.”
“Sure, sure,” Morrie agreed. “We’ve got to get you to one, too. We moved Ross up to the cabin.”
“I want to see him.”
“Comin’ up! Have a seat, while I get the car.”
With Art’s help Cargraves managed to get up on his good foot and hobble to the door. Getting down from the ship’s door was painful, but he made it, and fell thankfully into the seat of the car.
“Who’s there?” Ross called out, as they came in with Cargraves leaning on the two boys.
“All of us,” Art told him.
Cargraves saw that Ross was lying in his bunk with his eyes covered with a handkerchief. Cargraves hobbled over to him. “How is it, kid?” he said huskily.
“Oh, it’s you, Doc. I’ll get by. It’ll take more than that to do me in. How are you?”
“I’m all right. How about your eyes?”
“Well,” Ross admitted, “to tell the truth, they don’t work too well. All I see is purple and green lights.” He kept his voice steady, almost cheerful, but the pulse in his neck was throbbing visibly. Cargraves started to remove the bandage. Morrie stopped him.
“Let the bandage alone, Doc,” he said firmly. “There’s nothing to see. Wait till we get him to a hospital.”
“But . . . Okay, okay. Let’s get on with it.”
“We were just waiting for you. Art will drive you.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I,” said Morrie, “am going to climb up on the roof of this shack with a load of sandwiches and a gun. I’ll still be there when you get back.”
“But-” Cargraves shrugged and let the matter pass.
Morrie scrambled down when they got back and helped Cargraves hobble into the cabin. Ross was led in by Art; his eyes were bandaged professionally and a pair of dark glasses stuck out of his shirt pocket. “What’s the score?” Morrie demanded of all of them, but his eyes were fastened on Ross.
“It’s too early to tell,” Cargraves said heavily, as he eased into a chair.
“No apparent damage, but the optic nerve seems paralyzed.”
Morrie clucked and said nothing. Ross groped at a chair and sat down.
“Relax,” he advised Morrie. “I’ll be all right. The flash produced a shock in the eyes. The doctor told me all about it. Sometimes a case like this goes on for three months or so, then it’s all right.”
Cargraves bit his lip. The doctor had told him more than he had told Ross; sometimes it was not all right; sometimes it was permanent.
“How about you, Doc?”
“Sprain, and a wrenched back. They strapped me up.”
“Nothing else?”
“No. Anti-tetanus shots for both of us, but that was just to be on the safe side.”
“Well,” Morrie announced cheerfully, “it looks to me as if the firm would be back in production in short order.”
“No,” Cargraves denied. “No, it won’t be. I’ve been trying to tell these goons something ever since we left the hospital, but they wouldn’t listen. We’re through. The firm is busted.”
None of the boys said anything. He went on, raising his voice. “There won’t be any trip to the moon. Can’t you see that?”
Morrie looked at him impassively. “You said, `The firm is busted.’ You mean you’re out of money?”
“Well, not quite, but that’s a factor. What I meant-”
“I’ve got some E-bonds,” Ross announced, turning his bandaged head.
“That’s not the point,” Cargraves answered, with great gentleness. “I appreciate the offer; don’t think I don’t. And don’t think I want to give up. But I’ve had my eyes opened. It was foolish, foolish from the start, sheer folly. But I let my desires outweigh my judgment. I had no business getting you kids into this. Your father was right, Ross. Now I’ve got to do what I can to make amends.”
Ross shook his head. Morrie glanced at Art and said, “How about it, medical officer?”
Art looked embarrassed, started to speak, and changed his mind. Instead he went to the medicine cabinet, and took out a fever thermometer. He came back to Cargraves. “Open your mouth, Uncle.”