on the lake. Do you think I could get you down to it and take you home?"
"Perhaps—maybe. I'll be stronger in a moment, now that the bleeding has stopped. But not—not home—frighten my wife, Take me to the sanitarium if you can—sanitarium up the lake, a few miles from here."
The unfortunate man, who had tried to sit upright, had to lean back against the tree again. Tom understood what he meant in spite of the broken sentences. Mr. Duncan did not want to be taken home in the condition he was then in, for fear of alarming his wife. He wanted to be taken to the sanitarium, and Tom knew where this was, a well-known resort for the treatment of various diseases and surgical cases. It was about five miles away and on the opposite shore of the lake.
"Water—a drink!" murmured Mr. Duncan.
Seeing that his patient would be all right, for a few minutes at least, Tom hurried to his motorboat, got a cup and, filling it with water from a jug he carried, he hastened with it to the hunter. The fluid revived the man wonderfully and now that the bleeding had almost completely stopped, Mr. Duncan was much stronger.
"Do you think you can get to the boat, if I help you?" asked Tom.
"Yes, I believe so. To think of meeting you
