“There are plenty of towns along the river,” Clayton Emmett suggested, “and there must be a surgeon in some of them; but his injuries may not be so serious as they appear to be at first glance. Perhaps it may be well to get the stretcher,” he added, as the boys gathered in an awed group about the silent figure.
Jule darted away to bring the stretcher, while the other boys made a rough examination of the injured boy’s wounds. His head was one mass of bruises, and his left leg seemed to be broken. He was still unconscious, and the only wonder was that a person so battered and beaten should be capable of uttering the cries which had brought the dog to his assistance.
Presently Alex and Case, leaving Clay to watch beside the stranger, climbed an almost perpendicular wall of rock and, with the aid of their searchlights, looked down the narrow neck of land which connected with the shore.
The searchlights illuminated the scene only faintly. The night was very dark, and the rays of light traveled only a short distance before becoming absorbed by the shadows which shut out the landscape.
“It’s darker than a stack of black cats!” said Alex, after a moment’s inspection of the scene. “We may as well be on our way back.”
The boys started back in the direction of the boat, but came to a halt at the sound of a low, whining cry which seemed to come from behind a ridge of rocks off to the left.
“What’s coming off now?” Alex exclaimed, turning his searchlight in the direction of the sound. “Hope it isn’t anything that will bite! Come out of that, you rascal!”
But whatever it was it did not seem inclined to obey the command, so Alex dashed off on an exploring trip.
“Come back, you mutton head!” shouted Case. “That may be a fake to lure us into a trap!”
But Alex’s searchlight was by this time out of sight around a corner of rock and Case followed on behind. After making his way, not without difficulty, along a shelf of rock Case came to a pit-like depression, and, looking down, caught a glimpse of his chum’s light.