“I wouldn’t have gone out that time, if it wasn’t that the club LeBlanc used hit me on the tender spot that was left from the bump I got when I fell off the train. That and my game ankle have almost made a blooming invalid out of me.”
He was insistent about getting up, and it is probable that his friends would have yielded to his demands, except that at that moment a shadow darkened the doorway of the tent, and they looked up to see the figure of their friend, the Hermit.
They would hardly have recognized him except for his clothing, for he had had his hair cut and his beard shaved off.
They bade him a hearty welcome, and asked how he had found them. He explained that he had found that they had come to Hobart and had walked there, taking almost a week to make the trip, and arriving at Hobart had been directed to Denton, who told where the boys and Nate might be found.
Garry caught himself gazing at the Hermit all the rest of the afternoon. There was something puzzling, something that lurked in his mind that he could not quite uncover. Then a wild thought came. He went outside the tent, and called Nate out.
“Listen carefully now, please, Nate. I may be crazy, and then again if I’m right, it may be the biggest thing in life for two people. I haven’t time to explain now. But on no condition let the Hermit out of your sight until I can get my father here. Keep him if you have to tie him to do it.”
Garry dashed away toward the town, which lay some four miles distant. He arrived at the station and found that it was closed. The next objective was the hotel, and here he inquired for the residence of the station agent. To his dismay he was told that the station agent lived some twenty miles down the road, and had gone there for a short time. He had taken the last down train, and a relief operator would come in the morning to take his shift during his time off.
“You see, there are no trains here after nightfall, and so there’s no need for a telegrapher or station agent,” explained the hotel owner.
“But this may be a matter of life and death,” cried Garry. “Look here, I can send a message myself. Can you suggest any way of getting into the station?”
“Well, young man, I’ll tell you what I’ll do. There isn’t any chief of police or the like of that here, but I’m a Justice of the Peace, and maybe that will give me authority to bust a window in the station and let you in.”