On their way in, Phil stopped at the first doctor’s office they came across and luckily found the physician in. He gave Benton a thorough examination and found that, outside of bruises and a general shaking up, there was nothing serious the matter with him. A day or two of rest was his only prescription.
Phil invited Benton to put up at his home as a guest, and assured him of a welcome. The latter, however, declined with thanks, feeling a little shy about his “bunged-up condition,” as he expressed it, but promised to come up to Phil’s house the following night. At his request, Phil drove him to a good hotel. Then he left the horse and buggy in the care of the hostler and turned toward home.
On his way there he fell in with Dick and Tom coming in with the string of fish that, in the pressure of more important things, Phil had almost forgotten.
Phil swung into step with them, and they plunged at once into a discussion of the exciting events of the afternoon.
“Queer, wasn’t it,” said Dick, as he paused for a moment in front of Phil’s home before separating from his comrades, “how his hand flew to his breast at something Tom said?”
“It was odd,” agreed Tom. “I remember that I spoke of the horse as an old pirate. Nothing particular in that. But at the word ‘pirate’ Benton jumped as though he were shot.”
CHAPTER III
RADIO AND ITS WONDERS
“Oh well, probably it was only a coincidence,” remarked Phil. “As for Benton himself he struck me as just about all right. The kind of fellow you’d like to have at your back in a scrap.”
“That’s the way I sized him up, too,” agreed Dick.
“He sure has seen a lot of the world,” observed Tom, “and he’s got a pair of eyes that aren’t likely to have overlooked anything. I’m keen to see him again and start him talking.”