“That’s the fairy tale that has been shied at me a good many times lately,” replied Tag gruffly.

Mr. Page fell back, in some astonishment, at this ungracious reception.  Then, understanding, and remembering Tag’s unhappy past, he patted the boy’s shoulder.

“That’s all right—–­all right, Egbert,” declared the father.  “Perhaps the news has come upon you too suddenly.  But you and I will talk it over.  It won’t take us long to know each other, my boy.”

As the party came into camp it was noted that Mrs. Bentley and the girls had withdrawn, returning, through delicacy, to their own camp.  Hazelton, thus released from guard duty at the other camp, soon came running over.

But Dr. Bentley had slipped into the tent, quickly arranging one of the cots with the skill of the hospital worker.

“Bring the young man in here,” called the physician, appearing in the doorway of the tent.  “We’ll soon find out how bad the injury is.”

Tag was lowered down upon the blanket.

“Which foot is it?” asked Dr. Bentley.

“Left,” replied Tag.

Dr. Bentley deftly removed the shoe, causing hardly more than a trace of pain.  Tag insisted on raising himself on his elbow to look on.  It was the first time he had ever been under a doctor’s care.

Dick took one look at the wistful eyes of the father, as Mr. Page stood by the head of the cot, resting one hand on his supposed son’s shoulder.

“Come outside, fellows,” called Dick.  “Doctor, we’ll be outside if you want anything.”

The onlookers in the tent started to go outside, except the father and the physician.

“Come back, Hibbert,” called Mr. Page softly.  “You’ve been at least a son to me during the last year.  Now, remain and help me to get acquainted with my own son.”

Tag was silent.  He could take punishment, and Dr. Bentley was now hurting him quite a bit in his effort to get at the exact nature of the injury.

“Reade,” called the physician, “start a fire in a hurry.  Heat half a kettle of water for me as fast as you can.  Prescott, run over to my camp and ask Mrs. Bentley for my emergency case, the two-quart bottle of bicarbonate of soda and a roll of four-inch gauze.”

Dick sped toward the Bentley camp as though on wings.  While Mrs. Bentley was gathering the things for him the girls crowded about, asking eager questions about Tag, or Egbert Page, as he might prove to be.  But Dick delayed to talk only until Mrs. Bentley had placed the desired things in his hands.  Then he sped back, in time to hear the physician saying: 

“Only a sprain.  A painful one, to be sure.  But this young man may be moved in an automobile in an hour or two.  By to-morrow morning he ought to be able to get about with the aid of a crutch.”

“In jail is where I’ll do my moving about,” grunted Tag.

“No matter where it be, my boy,” protested Mr. Page, “if they lock you up they’ll have to take me, too.  Besides, I have money, and bail is possible.”