"Dave, help me to lift this cot over within a few feet of the stove.

Be as gentle as you can." Four tramps looked on in solemn curiosity as they saw Darrin and Prescott lift a cot on which lay something completely covered by a blanket.
Then Dick turned down the blanket, revealing the bruised, bleeding head of Reuben Hinman.
"What do you men know about this ?" Prescott demanded, eyeing them compellingly.
But the tramps' look was one of such astonished innocence that Prescott began to wonder whether he had wrongly suspected these knights of the highway.
"Why did you do---this ?" Prescott sternly insisted.
"We---we didn't do it!" exclaimed the boss tramp fervently.

"We didn't even know that this old party was anywhere out in the storm.
We-----" Moaning, Reuben Hinman stirred slightly then opened his eyes dreamily.
"Mr.Hinman, can you talk ?" asked Dick gently.
"Ye-es," faintly admitted the peddler.
"Then how were you hurt, sir ?" Dick pressed in the same gentle voice.
"I---I saw the light.

Tried---to drive my horse---in.

Wagon turned over.