“Yes; after I get a few things ready.  I don’t believe we’ll have much trouble with him, though we’ll have to get Reuben home and make him rest for a few days.”

“Where does he live?” Dick inquired.

“In Fenton.  Reuben has a queer little old home of his own there.”

“Has he a wife?” Dick asked.

“She died fifteen years ago.”

“Are there any children to look after Mr. Hinman?” Darry asked.

“He has children, but—–­well, they don’t live with him,” replied Dr. Haynes, as though not caring to discuss the subject.

Then the physician went to work over the peddler, who presently opened his eyes.

“Drink some of this,” ordered the physician.  “Now, you begin to feel better, don’t you, Reuben?”

“Yes; and I’ve got to get up right away and see what I can do about getting back my money,” cried the peddler.

“Don’t try to get up just yet,” ordered Dr. Haynes.

“If your money is worrying you, Mr. Hinman, I have it,” Dick broke in, showing the sack.

A cry of joy escaped the peddler.  He sank back, murmuring: 

“You’re good boys!  I knew you were good boys!”

“You take the money, Doctor, if you please, and turn it over to Mr. Hinman when he’s able to count it,” urged Prescott, handing the sack to their host.

“Now, Mr. Hinman will want to sleep a little while, so we’ll go outside and chat, if you’ve nothing pressing to do,” suggested the physician.

Dick and Dave thought they might learn more about the odd peddler, but Reuben Hinman’s affairs was one subject that the physician did not seem inclined to talk about.

“Now, if you young men want to take Reuben over to Fenton,” said Dr. Haynes, at last, “I’ll telephone Dr. Warren from here, and he’ll be expecting you.  It’ll take you about two hours to get over to Fenton at the gait that old Reuben’s horse travels.”

This time a mattress was placed on top of the pile of rags, and the peddler was made as comfortable as possible for the trip.

“Remember, Reuben, you’ve got to stay in the house and take care of yourself for three or four days,” was Dr. Haynes’ parting injunction.

“I can’t spare the time from my business,” groaned the old man.

“You’ll have to, this time, Reuben, as the means of being ready to do more business.  So be good about it.  You have two fine lads taking care of you to-night.”

“I know that, Doctor.”

It was five o’clock in the morning when Dick and Dave drove into the main street of Fenton.  Yet they found an automobile in the road, and Dr. Warren, a very young man, hailed them.

“Drive right along, boys.  I’ll show you the way to the house,” called the Fenton physician.

It was a very small and very plain little house of five rooms into which Reuben was carried, but it was a very neatly kept little house.