"What shall I do? Can you procure a horse—"
"I can. You must rest here, or at a little shanty up the stream I have in my mind, until I bring a conveyance. Do you mind?"
"I suppose I must wait. I feel terribly sick and weak."
Then, leaning on the arm of the deformed peddler, August permitted him to lead him into the bushes, where, against the creek bank, was a small fisherman's shanty, one side of which was open to the weather.
Here, on an old blanket, the peddler left August to await his return.
Tige was left to guard the sick man, and then Hiram Shanks hastened from the spot.
It seemed a long time ere the peddler returned, and when he did come, he brought the most startling news.
CHAPTER XXII.
HANK JONES AGAIN.
Hot with fever, August Bordine lifted his aching head for the dozenth time to listen for the returning tread of the queer old peddler.