“No wonder he pumped me about who it was that sent the wigwag,” he thought, as the sound of water was heard from the kitchen pump. “While I have been sitting here telling him everything he has been measuring me, wondering if I have been playing some sort of a game with him. Maybe I’m lucky that he didn’t jump on me suddenly, but I believe that my straightforward story has convinced him that I don’t know anything. Nothing dumb about him, evidently! My story about running down to see if he is all right must sound pretty flat, though.”
The man wheeled into the room rapidly and in his hand he had a tall glass of water. Don drank it eagerly, keeping a wary eye on the old man, but nothing out of the way happened and he thanked him for the water.
“Don’t mention it,” smiled the man. “Come up again and see me, won’t you?”
“I surely will,” promised Don, as he opened the door. “Good night, sir.”
“Good night, boy, good night,” was the bright and cheery response, as Don went out.
“If he isn’t a cripple, he certainly knows how to run that chair of his,” Don decided, as he ran up the hill.
He found that the others were waiting for him impatiently. “Golly, we thought that you were lost,” said Jordan, impatiently.
“No, just talking with Mr. Vancouver,” said Don. “Didn’t have any luck, eh?”
“Not a bit,” returned the senior captain. “Well, I suppose we may as well head in.”
It did not take them long to make camp, where they found the others awaiting them. Jordan reported to the colonel, who had heard the shot and who knew from Rowen’s own report what had happened. Howes was ordered to blow the bugle as a sign of recall, and before very long all of the groups had returned.