“Wonder how Old Stony is getting along?” Jack speculated. “Any word?”
“I went up to the office to inquire,” Ken replied. “The place was locked up. No sign of Walz. He’s probably still in bed.”
“I sort of hate to pull out of here without knowing Stony’s okay.”
“Sure, we all do,” Ken agreed soberly. “After we’re packed and ready to hit the road, what say we stop somewhere to telephone the hospital?”
“Good idea,” Mr. Livingston approved. “I was going to suggest it myself.”
In short order the Scouts finished breakfast, disposed of the garbage, and put out their fire. Soon the car was packed ready for their departure.
“Well, we’re leaving the camp cleaner than we found it,” Ken said, making a last careful survey before they pulled out.
Mr. Livingston turned the car around on the lot and started to drive past the office. Before he could do so, a man came across the street from a drugstore and signaled for the car to stop.
As Mr. Livingston pulled up, the stranger said: “The hospital just called.”
“About Stony?”