Less than half an hour later Jack had obtained the services of a Doctor Parsons, who happened to be in his office at the time, and had likewise telephoned to Colby Hall, getting Captain Dale on the wire. The captain had said that he would at once inform Gif and also Colonel Colby and that someone would come to the old shed as speedily as possible. Then the young major and the doctor set off in the latter’s automobile for the scene of the accident, the physician taking bandages and his medical case.
In the meantime those left at the shed continued to do what they could for Mr. Garrison, and presently had the satisfaction of seeing him open his eyes once more. The storm was lessening, the lightning and thunder fast drawing off to the eastward, and it was growing lighter.
“Oh, my head!” murmured the sufferer. “And my arm! What’s the matter with my arm?” he questioned feebly.
“You’ve had a terrible shaking up, Uncle Fred,” said his namesake kindly.
“Uncle Fred? Who is that that is speaking?” The man stared at the young captain. “Why, I declare, it’s Fred Rover! Where did you come from?”
“We were in the old barn keeping out of the rain when you smashed into it and upset your machine.”
“We? Who do you mean? Oh, I see! Here are Andy and Randy.” Mr. Garrison tried to go on, but for the moment was too weak to do so. “I thought I was going to be killed!” he groaned.
“I suppose your car skidded?” suggested Randy.
“It did. You see, I thought it wouldn’t be necessary to put on the chains because I was going to stop at Haven Point, and then go up to the school to-morrow. I came around the curve and then, all of a sudden, lost control, and the next thing I knew I hit something and then—and then I didn’t know anything.”