The fisherman glanced inquiringly at his wife.
"Go ahead, John," she said. "You wouldn't let the poor man die, would you?"
"I wondered if you'd mind bein' left alone."
"Go on. I'm not a baby. Drive the poor fellow out to a doctor. It's easy to be seen he needs attention."
The fisherman quickly brought out his car and they carefully put Captain Royal in the back seat. The boys brought out their motorcycles and, with Biff riding in company of the fisherman, the little party set out for the main road.
"I don't know whether we can find a doctor at the village or not," said the fisherman. "If we can't, there's nothing for it but to drive on into Bayport."
"We'll fix the expenses," Frank assured him.
"That's all right. I don't want any money for my trouble. The poor old chap seems to have got a terrible wallop on the head. How did it happen?"
"He fell off a cliff."
"Did it have anything to do with the fellow you brought out this morning?" asked the fisherman shrewdly.