"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 not answer, but turned to do what he could for the
hurt man. He felt of his chest and listened to his breathing, and then
administered some medicine.