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CHAPTER XXV Spurlock pushed back his helmet and sat down in the white sand, buckling his knees and folding his arms around them—pondering. “I wonder which of us enjoys that most,” said Capes—“does he, or do we?” “He seems to get a zest—” “He does it and forgets it. "I warn you, if you do not send for a doctor immediately, you will have cause to regret it," Ruth declared vigorously. Shari squealed, clutching her towel around her. Doctors constantly admonished and offered weak consolation that most would have been hurt much worse from the type of fall he took. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. On searching the coat, he found, amongst other matters, a mask, a key, and a pocket-book.
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