Meanwhile Ned and Andy were on their way. There were still several hours of daylight left, and they must make the most of them. The need of a doctor was imperative.
The boat was soon chugging its way down the lake to where the old hermit, who once before had directed the boys, lived in his lonely cabin. He was fishing from a leaky old boat, not far from shore, when the boys puffed up in their craft.
“Easy! Easy!” called the old man, in fretful tones. “You’ll scare all the fish, boys.”
“Can’t help it! We’re sorry!” exclaimed Ned. “But a friend of ours is hurt. Is there any doctor around here?”
“Ha! Someone hurt? That’s too bad! And you need a doctor?” asked the old man, winding in his line.
“Do you know of anyone?” demanded Ned, a bit impatiently.
“Why, yes—that is, Dr. Brown has an office in Tuckerton. He’s a young chap, but pretty good, they say.”
“And where is Tuckerton?” asked Ned.
“About ten miles down the lake.”