"Your father is in no condition to talk, Mr. Hinman. I telephoned you so that you might come over and take charge of the horse and wagon. There is quite a bit of stock on the wagon, too, I believe."
"My father must have considerable money with him," the young man hinted.
"He has some," Dick replied. "I do not know how much."
"I will take charge of his money for him," offered young Hinman.
"You will do nothing of the sort," broke in Dr. Hewitt, scowling. "Hinman, your father will be some time at the hospital, and he will want to be able to pay his bills there. He will also want to be able to purchase some comforts for himself while convalescing. So your father will take his money with him to the hospital."
"He can turn it over to me, if he has a mind to do so," insisted the younger man.
"You get out of here!" ordered the doctor, speaking decisively, though in a low tone. At the same time he pointed to the doorway of the tent. Just then the doctor looked as though he might rather enjoy the opportunity of throwing young Hinman out into the open air. The peddler's son walked outside of the tent with an air of offended dignity.
"Now, will four of you young men take hold of that cot, gently, and carry it out to my car?" asked Dr. Hewitt.
Dick, Dave, Tom and Greg served as the litter bearers. Then, under Dr. Hewitt's instructions, they lifted the old man into the tonneau of the car as though he had been an infant. The boss tramp had already taken his place in the tonneau of the machine. After blankets brought by the physician had been wrapped about the peddler the tramp contrived to rest the old man against his own broad shoulder.
"Good-bye, father," said the younger Hinman, who had looked on with a frown on his face. "I hope you'll be all right soon."