“Then perhaps we had better take him over there,” suggested Tom.

“By all means, and I’ll go with you.”

Running into the house, the doctor procured his hand case, and then joined the boys in the automobile.  A run of a few minutes brought the party to the hotel, and Sam and Tom lifted the young man out and carried him inside.

The arrival of the party created some consternation, but as only the proprietor of the hotel and a bellboy were present, the matter was kept rather quiet.  The young man had a room on the second floor, and to this he was speedily taken, and placed in the care of the doctor.

“No bones broken so far as I can ascertain,” said Doctor Havens, after a long examination.  “He has cut his forehead, and he also has a bruise behind his left ear, but I think he is suffering more from shock than anything else.”

“Did you say you knew him?” questioned Tom.

“Oh, no, only that I had seen him around this hotel.”

“What is his name?” asked Sam, of the hotel proprietor, who had followed them to the room.

“His name is Pelter.”

“Pelter!” The cry came from Tom and Sam simultaneously, and the brothers looked at each other questioningly.

“Yes, Pelter.  Do you know him?”

“What is his first name?” demanded Tom.

“Why, let me see,” The hotel man mused for a moment.  “I have it!  Barton Pelter.”

“I never heard that name before,” said Tom.  “We know a man in——­” And then, as Sam looked at him in a peculiar way, he added, “Oh, well, never mind.  We don’t know this fellow, anyway.  I hope he gets over this trouble.”

By this time the sufferer had again recovered consciousness, but he was evidently very weak, and the doctor motioned for the Rover boys and the hotel man to leave the room.

“All right, but let us know in the morning by telephone how he is, Doctor,” returned Tom; and then the Rover boys and the hotel man went below.

“Can you tell us anything about this Barton Pelter?” questioned Sam, of the proprietor.

“I know very little about him, excepting that he is registered as from Brooklyn, and that he came here three days ago.  What his business is in Ashton, I haven’t the least idea.”

“Is he well off—­ that is, does he appear to have much money?” asked Tom.

“Oh, he hasn’t shown any great amount of cash around here,” laughed the hotel man.  “My idea is that he is some sort of a commercial traveler, although he hasn’t anything with him but his suitcase.”

This was all the hotel man could tell them, and a few minutes later the Rover boys were in their automobile once more and headed back for the scene of the accident.

“We ought to have put up some danger signal, Tom,” remarked Sam, while on the way.

“I know it, but we hadn’t any time to waste while we had that poor chap on our hands.  By the way, do you think he can be any relative of Jesse Pelter, the rascal who knocked me out with the footstool, and who tried his best to rob dad?”