right
under one of the tree limbs."

"What about your legs? Can you move them at all?" went on the oldest
Rover boy. He did not have the heart to mention that the man's lower
limbs might be broken.

Feebly, the man raised up first one leg and then the other. The limbs
had not been broken, but they were much bruised and swollen, and the
movements caused the sufferer to give a groan.

"I'm afraid I'm done up so far as walking is concerned," he said
dolefully. "You see, I'm getting old," he went on. "If I was a younger
man, maybe this wouldn't affect me quite so much. But as it is----" He
shook his head dismally.

"I guess you had better let us carry you out of the woods," said Jack.
"You can't walk, and you certainly can't stay here alone."

"Do you know where the nearest house is located?" questioned Randy.

"Let me see----" The man mused for a moment, shutting his eyes while he
did so. "Unless I'm greatly mistaken, Bill Hobson lives on the edge of
the woods just to the north of this spot."

"Is he a farmer?" questioned Fred.

"No, he's a lumberman, like myself," was the reply. The man looked from
one to another of the youths. "May I ask who you are?"

"We're the Rover boys," answered the oldest of the four. "I am Jack
Rover, and these are my cousins, Fred, Andy, and Randy."

"Glad to know you, boys; and doubly glad to think you were up in this
section of the woods just when I had this accident. I sha'n't forget
your kindness. My name is Stevenson, but most all the folks that know me
call me Uncle Barney. I take it from your uniforms that you belong at
Colby Hall."

"We do," answered Andy.

"I don't belong in this neighborhood. I just came over early this
morning to see what the hunting looked like around here. My home is on
Snowshoe Island, in the middle of Lake Monona, about ten miles north of
here."

"I think you had better rest on some of these pine boughs while some of
us try to locate the Bill Hobson you mentioned," said Jack. "Can you
point out the general direction of his place?"

"It's up along this mountain stream," and Barney Stevenson indicated the
Rick Rack River. "You just follow that watercourse for about a quarter
of a mile, and I'm pretty sure you'll come to it."

"Well, if you're sure it's along this stream, we might as well try to
get you there first as last," announced Randy. He turned to his cousins.
"Why can't we take turns in carrying him, either on our backs or on a
litter?"