"Is he badly hurt?" he asked of the medical man, when they were out in the corridor.
"Well, he is hurt internally. I think we can pull him through with careful nursing. Is he a friend of yours?"
"I used to think he was," answered Dick. "I guess he got into bad company, that's the trouble. I'd like to help him if I could. Here, doctor, take this and see that he has good nursing, will you, please," and Dick thrust a hundred-dollar bill into the physician's hand.
"But this—this is quite a sum of money."
"Well, I guess dad would want me to spend it," replied Dick. "I've got lots more. Anyhow, I couldn't bear to think of Simon suffering, even if he did do me some mean turns. Will you look after him, doctor? I've got to go back East."
"I will, young man, and he can thank you for befriending him. I guess those men won't have anything more to do with him after this, and it's hard for a lad like him to be sick in a wild country like this. I'll see that he has the best of care."
Pondering over the strange events of the last few hours, Dick went back to his hotel. It was now nearly breakfast-time and he was ready for the meal, especially the hot coffee. Tim and Frank, also, did full justice to it, and then, being very sleepy, they went to bed, as did Dick.
"We'll start back home to-morrow," the millionaire's son said to his chums as he went to his room.