“The little hero set his leg himself,” Clay said. “I don’t know how he ever did it! The bones are back in place, and the flesh is not at all bruised. The brave little chap! How did he ever do it?”
“He probably killed himself doing it,” wailed Alex. “He fell down some precipice and crawled miles to a spot where he could get wood for the splints. Crawled miles with that broken leg and carried his food with him! He’s a little hero, that’s just what he is!”
There was no sleep for the boys that night. Gran, worn out by suffering and over-exertion, lay until daylight with his eyes closed.
CHAPTER XXI.—A CAMPFIRE HIGH ON THE HILLS.
There was quite a celebration in the cabin when, at last, just as the sun came into view over the mountains, Gran opened his heavy eyes and looked about. All three boys were at his side instantly, and Captain Joe, who seemed to claim precedence by right of discovery, put his great paws up on the bunk and addressed soft phrases in dog talk to the patient.
“For my sake don’t tell him that he mustn’t talk, now!” Alex broke out. “Of all the chestnuts of fiction that is the worst! Let him get his troubles off his chest! Hello, Gran, old top! How are you?” he added, wrinkling his freckled nose at the boy on the bunk. “Brace up!”
“And don’t you dare to look wildly around and say, ‘Where am I?’” Case threatened, taking up the mood of the first speaker. “That is another of the terms kept standing in all printing offices. You’re looking fine this morning, old man!” he continued, determined to cheer the boy up to the point of a smile if that were possible.
“What kind of a foolish house do you think we keep here, Gran?” asked Clay. “These lads are doing a lot of talking, but neither one has made a move to get you something to eat. What will you have? Fish, partridge, bear or baked beans? Apple pie, dried apple pie, red apple pie, or pie-pie! Give a name to it, and you’ll be feeding like a king in no time at all!”
Gran laughed at the waiter-like tone and manner, and tried to sit up, but was glad to lie down again.
“I know where I am,” he said, “but I don’t know how I came here. I guess the Rambler is going somewhere, but I don’t know where.”