Later, one of the rodmen was sent to guide Harry to the nearest small town, twenty-eight miles away, for ice. If they succeeded in obtaining it they might be back by dark of the following day.
Supper in camp was a gloomy meal. No one felt light-hearted.
“Mr. Rutter,” asked Tom, approaching the temporary chief, soon after the evening meal, “what do you want Hazelton and myself to do this evening?”
“Don’t ask me,” returned Jack, with a shrug of his shoulders. “What have you been doing? Drawing?”
“Yes.”
“Why don’t you go on with it?”
“We’re at a point where we need orders, for we’ve had to lay down one part of the work while waiting for further instructions.”
“I can’t help you any, then,” replied Rutter. “Sorry, but before I could give any orders I’d need a few myself.”
At eleven o’clock that night Dr. Gitney arrived, with saddle-bags full of medicines and other necessaries. He saw Blaisdell, and pronounced the assistant engineer a very sick man.
Shortly after midnight Mr. Thurston rode into camp. He tottered from saddle and reeled until Tom, on the lookout for him, ran forward and supported the chief engineer to his tent.