“But he’s needed for an accident!” cried Jerry. “Is there any other physician in town?”
“Yes,” he was informed. “Dr. Madison lives about two miles out, on the State road.”
But Dr. Madison was not at home either, and his wife could not say when he would return.
“Sometimes he is out until long after midnight,” she said. “His patients are widely scattered.”
“What shall I do?” muttered Jerry, speaking more to himself than to the doctor’s wife. He thought of poor Bob in the little tent, with Andy and Ned keeping lonely vigil beside him.
“I’m very sorry,” said the lady, when Jerry had told of the circumstances, and the need of haste. “I heard there is a New York doctor stopping at the hotel in the village. He came up here for a rest, but perhaps he might go see your friend. I don’t know who the doctor is, but I have heard my husband speak highly of him. He is some sort of a specialist, so I understand.”
“I’ll try him!” decided Jerry desperately. “He can’t refuse to help us out in this emergency.”
A little later his mud-spattered car drew up at the only hotel in the village.
“Is there a physician stopping here?” asked Jerry of the hotel clerk. The lad’s appearance indicated the need of haste, and alarm and anxiety showed on his face.
“Yes, Dr. Wright is stopping here,” replied the man behind the desk, “but I don’t know that he would like——”