Both looked startled as they entered the room, and serious and anxious as Ralph hurriedly told of his discovery and theory.
"It looks as if you were right, Ralph," said Will as he looked closely at the silent form on the floor.
"Poor fellow!" commented Will's companion. "He must have been lying here all alone--all through that storm, too---since yesterday afternoon."
"He isn't dead," announced Will, but still in an awed tone. "What are you going to do, Ralph?"
"We must get him out of here," answered Ralph. "If one of you could bring the cot over from the clubhouse, we will carry him there."
Will sped away on the mission indicated. When he returned, they prepared to use the cot as a stretcher. The strange boy moved and moaned slightly as they lifted him up, but did not open his eyes, and lay perfectly motionless as they carefully carried him down the stairs, across the ballfield, and into the clubhouse.
There was a telephone there. Ralph hurriedly called up a young physician, very friendly with the boys, and whose services they occasionally required.
He arrived in the course of the next fifteen minutes. He expressed surprise at the wet and draggled condition of his patient, felt his pulse, examined his heart, and sat back with his brows knitted in thoughtfulness.
"Who is he?" inquired the doctor.
"I don't know," answered Ralph. "He is a stranger to Stanley Junction. From his clothes, I should judge he is some poor fellow from the country districts, who has seen hard work," and Ralph told about the first sensational appearance of the stranger at the depot the morning before, and the details of his accidental discovery an hour previous in the old factory.