“Looks like we had enough trouble long of him and his mate as it is.”
“Put him in back, of course,” corrected Phil. “If these two are in bad about something, it is our duty to keep track of this one, for the present at least. Who knows? He may give us a pointer yet as to what they were up to.”
So the wounded man, despite his querulous complaints, was put in the tonneau with Billy and Paul to assist him and do whatever was necessary to make him as comfortable as conditions would permit.
Then the Big Six was started. As has been stated, the incline being gradual, the big car, carefully steered, had less trouble in making the remainder of the trip to the new highway than the boys anticipated. True, with the injured man and the equipment of the lads the car was rather crowded, but the motor did its duty, the purring sounds being as even as could be wished. Paul, on his return, had broken down a sort of trail which it was not difficult to follow.
Arrived at the roadway it had been already determined that, as the day was already well spent, they would return to Feeney’s for the night, then make for Midlandville in the morning.
“Won’t old Feeney open his eyes when we tell him what those two strangers were up to to-day?” remarked Paul who, tired of fanning the wounded man, had managed to exchange with Dave.
Not far from where they turned into the highway, it veered southward, leaving the railroad to the right, and a mile further crossed the old road along which the boys had motored that morning on their way to the old tavern.
To say that they were cordially received by Mr. Feeney would be only the truth. At sight of the bareheaded man in gray, his visored cap somewhere among the things in the car, Pat eyed him perplexedly, saying:
“Holy Moses! Little did I think to see the likes of you back again!”
The wounded man opened his eyes slowly and blinked the lids when he saw they were carrying him to the house from the car.