The young man, who could hardly have been more than thirty-five years of age, though a veteran of the Spanish war, put up his hand, and felt of his head, wincing with the pain the contact gave him. A tinge of color was creeping back into his pale face, which Elmer was delighted to see.
"It is all a mystery to me," Ralph Oxley told them, shaking his head. "I have no recollection of doing anything like you say. In fact, the last thing I remember seems to be of riding out to look over a new farm my father had bought, and of my horse running away when some one shot close by the road. After that it is all a dead blank; and yet you say some years have passed since then?"
He seemed awed by the thought.
"That must have been where you were thrown, striking on your head, received the injury that caused your mind to become a blank," Elmer told him; while Doctor Ted nodded vigorously as though seconding the motion.
"But I'm in a terrible position, with only these thin clothes on, and no shoes or socks on my feet," remarked the man, who, now that he had returned to his senses, could apparently feel the sting of the cold air, something that doubtless he may not have been sensitive to before.
"Perhaps we can fix you up with something to tide over," Chatz told him. "Here's Lil Artha, whose feet must be the same size as yours, and I happen to know he brought a pair of new extra moccasins along, which he hasn't worn yet."
First one, and then another proposed lending Ralph certain garments, until in the end he was well taken care of. He even sat with them, propped up in a comfortable seat, and ate the dinner the scouts prepared, asking dozens of eager questions, many of which they were not able to answer, because they concerned his people, and none of the scouts happened to know them.
"I'm going to make a proposition to you, fellows," said Elmer, when they had finished their meal; "and here it is. You know Stackhouse is about eleven miles away from here, though twice that far from Hickory Ridge. My map shows a fairly decent road leading there. Suppose we pull up stakes and start for Mr. Oxley's home? We could make it before sunset, I should think. It's true that our camping trip would be cut short a day, but I'm sure I voice the sentiments of every fellow that we'll feel mighty well repaid for any little sacrifice like that when we turn in to the Oxley place and bring back their lost son, not what he was when he ran away, but clothed in his right mind. Everybody in favor of that move say aye!"
A chorus answered him in the affirmative; why, even that hardened objector, Doubting George, shouted with the rest; for once having apparently chosen to be what Toby called "civilized."
Ralph Oxley had tears in his eyes as he insisted on shaking hands with every one of the scouts.