“An ambulance?” the motel owner repeated. “You don’t mean he’s bad off? Just from that little tap on the head?”
“It was a hard blow,” the doctor corrected him. “At the hospital we’ll take X-rays to see if there is a skull fracture. I rather doubt it, but in any case this man needs careful attention. How old is he?”
“Eighty-two,” Walz said. “At least, that’s what he claims.”
“He has a serious heart condition. At his age, a shock such as this could be very hard on him.”
“Doc, you don’t think he’ll die?” Walz gasped.
“His good physique is in his favor. I’d suggest, though, that you lose no time getting in touch with relatives.”
“Relatives? He has none that I ever heard of.”
The motel owner was plainly worried. Nervously, he paced back and forth in the cabin, not offering to help when Jack and Ken gathered together the few things which Stony would need at the hospital.
It was 3:30 A.M. by War’s watch when an ambulance pulled into the parking lot. Two attendants with a stretcher efficiently transferred Stony from his bed to their vehicle. Jarrett Walz did not offer to ride in the ambulance. Unwilling to see the old man taken without anyone to sit by him, Jack and Ken climbed in. Mr. Livingston, War, and Willie followed the ambulance in their own car.
At the hospital, matters were taken from the Scouts’ hands. Old Stony was passed through emergency and given a ward bed. Meanwhile, Mr. Livingston signed papers at the hospital office and provided what little information he could about the attack.