It was the deepest of slumbers into which he had fallen, yet he came out of it with a suddenness that left him dazed. Nicholas was leaping at the door, barking loudly to herald some one’s coming, sniffing along the threshold, then barking and leaping again. Hugh jumped up, so stiff that he could not move quickly. He took up his revolver and tried to reach the door, but was only half way across the room when it swung open, and Dick Edmonds came in.
He was drenched and dripping, and he, too, held a revolver in his hand. The two boys stared at each other for a long moment, then burst into roars of laughter. The long strain, the sudden desperate tension, the relief of each one at seeing a friend when he expected to confront an enemy, was quite too much for both. Even while they laid down their threatening weapons and shook hands they were still laughing. It was Dick who sobered first and went over to stoop down by his brother.
“He must have been getting steadily worse from the time I got him here,” he said. “Poor old Johnny, if he had been as badly off as this I would never have left him. But this was as far as I could get him alone and I was so desperate that I went off for help. I had been hoping against hope that Jake and his gang were away for some time, but when I saw by the muddy footprints on the doorstep that some one had gone in since I went away, I can tell you I was anxious.”
“Did you bring some one back with you?” asked Hugh.
“I never got to Two Rivers at all,” replied Dick. “The first stream I came to was so far over its banks that I walked for hours trying to find a place to cross and couldn’t. At last I realized that, even if I got help, it would risk leaving John alone too long, so I turned back. A lot of good I did by going!”
“The thing now,” said Hugh, “is to get your brother away as quickly as we can. The pirates will be coming back any minute.”
“I doubt if even the pair of us could ever get him to Two Rivers,” Dick returned doubtfully.
“We’ll take him across to Oscar Dansk’s house, there beyond the ravine,” Hugh said.
“Whatever you promised,” Hugh interrupted him, “you will not be asking for help from Oscar Dansk. He is not there.”
“That beats me,” he said. “I always thought poor Johnny was wrong about Oscar. I never really understood about that quarrel myself. And lately John was too sick to know quite what he did think, and he made me promise over and over, when he knew that we might be somewhere near where Oscar lived, that I would not go to him for help. They are both so obstinately proud. But I can see for myself that the only thing now is to do as you say. I should like to know how you ever got here, Hugh, and about a hundred other things, but we won’t spend time on explanations just yet. I suppose we can make a stretcher of blankets and carry him between us somehow.”