The other two tramps went reluctantly out into the storm.
A bottle full of hot water, wrapped in a towel, was placed at the peddler's feet.
In the meantime the tramps got the wagon into a sheltered position, then staked the horse out close to the place where the Gridley horse was tethered. This having been accomplished, they came back to the camp, to find a new aroma on the air.
"That stuff smells good. What is it?" asked the boss tramp.
"Ginger tea. We've made some to give to Mr. Hinman."
"Will you give us some, too?" asked the tramp. "We're all of us chilled and hoarse."
"I will," Dick nodded, "if you men will undertake to fill the buckets before you try to dry yourselves. Otherwise, we shall run out of water."
Grunting, the boss tramp and one of his companions listened while Dick directed them where to find running water. Out again into the storm they lurched, and soon had all the water buckets filled and in the tent.
While the tramps dried their clothing, Prescott kept his word about making ginger tea.
"This seems like the best stuff I've had since I was a baby," remarked the boss tramp, in a somewhat grateful voice.