There was a lapse of nearly ten minutes. Tom began to consider that Ben was not on duty. Suddenly there was a spitting crackle in the receiver.
“O.K.,” came the slow message. “Telephone all right. Reached doctor. On way to Rockley Cove now.”
“Good!” cried Tom.
[CHAPTER IX—STRICTLY BUSINESS]
Tom’s face was hopeful and pleased as he descended through the trap door to the ground with his good news.
“How is he?” was his eager inquiry, as he stepped inside the doorway of the old tool shed.
“He’s just begun to move again,” reported Harry, “but he has been twisting about and moaning terribly.”
“Mr. Barton! Mr. Barton!” shouted Tom in the ear of their patient, as the eyes of the latter opened and stared wildly at him.
“I remember now,” spoke Mr. Barton weakly. “It’s Tom Barnes?”
“Yes,” assented Tom. “That’s better,” he added, as the man sat up. “Don’t give way again, Mr. Barton, it’s all right.”