"I'm afraid I'm done up so far as walking is concerned," he said dolefully. "You see, I'm getting old," he went on. "If I was a younger man, maybe this wouldn't affect me quite so much. But as it is——" He shook his head dismally.
"I guess you had better let us carry you out of the woods," said Jack. "You can't walk, and you certainly can't stay here alone."
"Do you know where the nearest house is located?" questioned Randy.
"Let me see——" The man mused for a moment, shutting his eyes while he did so. "Unless I'm greatly mistaken, Bill Hobson lives on the edge of the woods just to the north of this spot."
"Is he a farmer?" questioned Fred.
"No, he's a lumberman, like myself," was the reply. The man looked from one to another of the youths. "May I ask who you are?"
"We're the Rover boys," answered the oldest of the four. "I am Jack Rover, and these are my cousins, Fred, Andy, and Randy."
"Glad to know you, boys; and doubly glad to think you were up in this section of the woods just when I had this accident. I sha'n't forget your kindness. My name is Stevenson, but most all the folks that know me call me Uncle Barney. I take it from your uniforms that you belong at Colby Hall."
"We do," answered Andy.
"I don't belong in this neighborhood. I just came over early this morning to see what the hunting looked like around here. My home is on Snowshoe Island, in the middle of Lake Monona, about ten miles north of here."