After Mr. Dennison and Gilbert had departed Frank thought again of the injured woodcutter, and, hastening out, they soon had him under the roof of the cabin.
In the morning it was decided that, as the weather seemed promising, two of them had better start for the village with the wounded man and Sandy. The boat was now in extra-good shape, and seemed hardly to leak a drop. Besides, the sooner Moogs was placed under the care of an experienced surgeon the better. Frank did not want to be responsible for the consequences any more than seemed absolutely necessary.
In time the injured woodcutter recovered from his severe wound; and the boys afterwards received a letter from Sandy, in which the boy tried hard to express the heavy obligations under which he and his "dad" felt themselves bound to the Outdoor Chums.
In the afternoon Gilbert came down to see them, and stayed over night.
As they sat around after supper and exchanged confidences the boys learned of the tragedy that had taken place in the life of Aaron Dennison. It fully explained the mystery hovering over his enclosed estate.
He had had a single child, as the poor fragment of a baby shoe had informed Frank; but the little fellow had been taken away from them. The wife and mother had never been the same after that, though for years she continued to be the faithful partner of the man, as he fought his way up in the world.
In the end she entirely lost her reason, and Mr. Dennison, unwilling that the one he loved so fondly should be placed in even the best asylum, had conceived the idea of building this home far removed from civilization.
Here the poor lady lived attended by a trusty nurse day and night. There were bars across the windows of her sleeping chamber, because of late she had developed a mania for wanting to leap from a height and hence they had to take all precautions.
No doubt she imagined herself a prisoner, and seeing the boys below, she had waved her handkerchief to them, and also had made gestures with her hands as though invoking their aid.
Of course Frank assured Gilbert that when they came up to take supper with his uncle not a word would be said on that painful subject. Even if they heard that pitiful wailing cry they would pretend that it was the screech of a strutting peacock, as once they had really believed.