Joe The Hotel Boy | Page 8

was left of the
cabin. He ran around to that point and pulled aside some boards and a
broken window sash.
"Uncle Hiram, are you here?"
"Joe!" came in a low voice, full of pain. The man tried to say more but
could not.
Hauling aside some more boards, Joe now beheld the hermit, lying flat
on his back, with a heavy beam resting on his chest. He was also

suffering from a cut on the forehead and from a broken ankle.
"This is too bad, Uncle Hiram!" he said, in a trembling voice. "I'll get
you out just as soon as I can."
"Be--be careful, Joe--I--I--my ribs must be broken," gasped the hermit.
"I'll be careful," answered the boy, and began to pull aside one board
after another. Then he tugged away at the beam but could not budge it.
"Raise it up Joe--it--is--crushing the life ou--out of me," said the hermit
faintly.
"I'll pry it up," answered the boy, and ran off to get a block of wood.
Then he procured a stout pole and with this raised the heavy beam
several inches.
"Can you crawl out, Uncle Hiram?"
There was no answer, and Joe saw that the man had fainted from
exhaustion. Fixing the pole so it could not slip, he caught hold of the
hermit and dragged him to a place of safety.
Joe had never had to care for a hurt person before and he scarcely knew
how to proceed. He laid the hermit on the grass and washed his face
with water. Soon Hiram Bodley opened his eyes once more.
"My chest!" he groaned. "All of my ribs must be broken! And my ankle
is broken, too!" And he groaned again.
"I had better get a doctor, Uncle Hiram."
"A doctor can't help me."
"Perhaps he can."
"I haven't any faith in doctors. A doctor operated on my mother and
killed her."

"But Doctor Gardner is a nice man. He will do all he can for you, I am
sure," urged Joe.
"Well, Dr. Gardner is a good fellow I admit. If you--can--can get
him--I'll--I'll --" The sufferer tried to go on but could not.
"I think I can get him. But I hate to leave you alone." And Joe stared
around helplessly. He wished he had Ned with him.
"Never mind--give me a drink--then go," answered Hiram Bodley. He
had often taken Doctor Gardner out to hunt with him and liked the
physician not a little.
Inside of five minutes Joe was on the way to the doctor's residence,
which was on the outskirts of Riverside. He had left the hermit as
comfortable as possible, on a mattress and covered with a cloth to keep
off the night air,-- for it was now growing late and the sun had set
behind the mountains.
Tired though he was the boy pulled with might and main, and so
reached the dock of the physician's home in a short space of time.
Running up the walk of the neatly-kept garden, he mounted the piazza
and rang the bell several times.
"What's the matter?" asked Doctor Gardner, who came himself to
answer the summons.
"Our cabin is in ruins, because of the storm, and Mr. Bodley is badly
hurt," answered Joe, and related some of the particulars.
"This is certainly too bad, my boy," said the physician. "I'll come at
once and do what I can for him."
He ran for a case of instruments and also for some medicines, and then
followed Joe back to the boat.
"You act as if you were tired," said the doctor, after he had watched Joe
at the oars for several minutes.

"I am tired, sir--I've been rowing a good deal to-day. But I guess I can
make it."
"Let me row," said the physician, and took the oars. He was a fine
oarsman, and the trip was made in half the time it would have taken Joe
to cover the distance.
At the dock there was a lantern, used by Joe and the hermit when they
went fishing at night. This was lit, and the two hurried up the trail to
the wreck of the cabin.
Hiram Bodley was resting where Joe had left him. He was breathing
with difficulty and did not at first recognize the doctor.
"Take it off!" he murmured. "Take it off! It is--is crushing th--the life
out of--of me!"
"Mr. Bodley--Hiram, don't you know me?" asked Doctor Gardner,
kindly.
"Oh! So it's you? I guess you can't do much, doctor, can you? I--I'm
done for!" And a spasm of pain crossed the sufferer's face.
"While there is life there is hope," answered the physician,
noncommittally. He recognized at once that Hiram Bodley's condition
was critical.
"He'll get over it, won't he?" questioned Joe, quickly.
The doctor did