“Take him out of here. Quickly. He needs air and medical treatment.”
Wallace grabbed the man’s legs and Paul took him under the arms. Thus they carried him downstairs. At the window, Paul said, “We’ll lay him down here for a while. You go and call a couple of the boys.”
He jumped through the window. Hesitating for a moment undecided which way to turn and whom to call, he put his fingers between his lips and sent out a low, shrill whistle. Dropping behind a clump of bushes, he lay there waiting, watching. In about a minute he noticed Ken and Jack appear from somewhere in the rear of the farm yard. They stayed close together and sneaked along from tree to tree. From the expression on their faces Wallace could tell that they were in a quandary as to where the whistle came from. He exposed himself and waved to them. They came on the run. “What’s the matter?” demanded Jack.
“Anything wrong?”—that from Ken.
Wallace waved away their questions and instructed them to wait under the window. He clambered in. The man now had his eyes open and made an effort to move his lips. Paul and Wallace picked him up and handed him out through the window. Jack and Ken gasped. Paul cautioned them. “Be careful. Hold on.”
Outside, Paul instructed Wallace to nail up the window again, while the three of them would take the man to the other side of the road, to where Bluff and their knapsacks were. That accomplished, Bluff was sent out to call in the other boys.
They stretched out a blanket on the grass and with another blanket for a pillow, they made the man comfortable. Paul moistened his lips with water and let him swallow a couple of mouthsful. After which the man fell into a doze.
Nuthin’ added, “He certainly needs medical attention.”