"Limp for life!" cried Dick.
"That is what they say."
"What a terrible affliction!" murmured the oldest Rover boy. "But he has nobody to blame but himself."
"Tom, are you quite comfortable here?" asked Mr. Rover, anxiously.
"Oh, yes, they do all they can for me, Dad," was the answer.
"We must send you home as soon as we can."
"Well, I'll be willing to go," returned Tom. He thought of the quiet farm, and of his Aunt Martha's motherly care, and gave a deep sigh.
"He can be moved in four or five days—the doctor said so," put in Sam. "I've figured it all out. We can take him to the train in an auto, and I'll see that he gets to Oak Run all right. There Jack can meet us with our own machine, and the rest will be easy."
"I can go along," said Dick.
"It won't be necessary, Dick," said Tom "You stay in New York and get Dad's affairs straightened out."