“Sure, right ofer dere,” and the German jerked his thumb over his shoulder.
“This man has been hurt in the head. If you will take him in and send for a doctor, I will be very thankful and settle all bills.”
“Sure, I took him in. Carl!”
At this call a boy, even fatter than his father, appeared.
“Run an’ tole your mudder a chentleman vos got hurt an’ to gits a ped reaty kvick.”
“Yah, fadder.”
The boy went off, and Bob, assisted by the German farmer, lifted old Blake out of the boat, and carried him up to the farm-house.
Here the old man was placed on a soft feather bed, and Carl was sent off for the nearest doctor.
Bob left a twenty-dollar bill behind to pay all immediate charges, and then bidding Blake keep a stout heart, he hired a horse and buggy from the German farmer and set off for Dartinville.
It was a good hour’s drive, but Bob did not mind that, being busy thinking over all Blake had told him.