“We got him home all right.”
“And the child?”
“You’ve done a big piece of work with your wireless this night, Tom Barnes,” replied Harry, his eyes brightening. “We found the doctor at the Barton home when we arrived. He got there just in time. Said half an hour more and the patient would have been beyond help.”
“That’s grand!” voiced Ben.
“He’s fixed up Mr. Barton’s bruises. Says his arm is only sprained, and that he’ll be around as well as ever in a week. I wish you’d heard that mother speak when they told her about what you had done in saving her child.”
“With your help, remember that.”
“H’m,” said Harry with a wriggle, and blushing like a school girl. “The peddler has gone out into the country to bring a sister of Mrs. Barton to the house, and I wanted to get back here. Now that Ben is here, it seems jollier than ever. I must go to the peddler’s house, though, and tell his wife that her husband won’t be home for an hour or two. I promised him I would.”
“All right, Harry,” said Tom briskly. “Then we’ll have a little lunch.”
But Harry tarried. About to descend the ladder, he turned around with the pertinent query:
“About that money that had to be paid, or you’d lose the station here.”