Slowly their patient revived. His body jerked weakly.
“You’re all right,” said Jake soothingly. “Don’t try to sit up. Can you hear me?”
The man fell back wearily. “You’ll never—take me—there—again——” he murmured faintly. “I—I—water——”
“Here you are. That’s it.” Jake propped him up, and held a handful of water to his mouth. “Shade the light, Jerry. What do you think we ought to do with him now?”
“He’s half frozen. We’ll have to get him warm.” Jerry had meanwhile noted a small pile of wood heaped under the eaves of the narrow shelter, at the side of which lay the small ax which Ellick had missed after the raid on his kitchen. “It won’t matter now if anybody sees the fire.” Leaving his place at the man’s side, he stirred up the dying flames and placed a few more sticks upon them. “It’s stopped raining for a while, I think. We’ll bring him over here, where he can get warm.”
Skillfully they brought their prisoner, still wrapped in the poncho, to a sitting position at the mouth of the lean-to, close to the reviving fire. The man’s breath was coming more easily now. His eyes were open, and he watched their every move, without attempting to speak.
“Think of it, Jake,” Jerry went on; “he’s been in the woods now for four or five days, without any decent clothes, and only a little food to eat, scared every minute that he will be caught again. It’s no wonder he’s worn out.” He turned to the man. “When did you eat last?”
The one addressed shook his head. “I—don’t know. Last night—got some food—dropped it——”
“That was Stunt Night!” put in Jake. “Sherlock and I found some cans of tomatoes he dropped when you chased him. Say, if we only had—— By jiminy, I just thought!” He reached in his breast pocket. “I got a couple bars of chocolate to eat to-night on the picnic, and just remembered them now.”
The paper-wrapped candy he drew out was sodden and melted by contact with his body, but the man’s eyes fastened themselves on them with mute pleading as Jake tore away the tinfoil about the sticky mass.