story. Drawers had been overturned. Old Stony’s few pathetic possessions were scattered on the bare floor.

“Robbery,” was Jack’s only comment.

Without attempting to lift the old man from the floor, they quickly examined his wound. It did not seem deep. However, the old man was certainly in a state of shock.

“Get Hap and our first-aid kit,” Jack directed Ken. “Better call a doctor, too. Stony’s an old fellow, and he has a heart condition.”

Ken hurried away. Left alone, Jack covered Stony with a blanket and pillowed his head. He was turning away to look for something he could use for a temporary bandage, when the old man’s lips began to move.

Jack bent closer. “Who was it that hit you?” he asked.

“Don’t know,” the old fellow mumbled. “Woke up—the skunk was pawing through my things. I yelled at him, and then he hit me on the skull. Last I knew for a while.”

“You didn’t see his face?”

“No,” Old Stony admitted in disgust.

“Whoever it was must have meant to rob you.”

“The thieving rascal was after my gold and the map.”

Over Jack’s protests, Old Stony raised himself up on an elbow. His gaze raked the entire cabin from the fireplace to the bed. What he saw seemed to satisfy him, for he gave a feeble, throaty chuckle.

“The skunk didn’t get what he was after! Old Stony is nobody’s fool. Young fellow, if you’ll help me, I’ll get back into bed.”

“You shouldn’t move,” Jack warned him. “The doctor will be here in a few minutes.”

“Doctor, fiddlesticks! It takes more’n a little tap on the head to knock out Old Stony.”

Because the aged man was not to be denied, Jack helped him into bed, but he was alarmed at the prospector’s pallor and weakness.

“I’m all right,” Stony mumbled. “Thank you, son.”

It was increasingly clear to Jack that the old man was not all right, so he was greatly relieved when Ken came back with Mr. Livingston, Willie, and War.

One glance at the man on the bed, and the Scout leader drew Ken aside.

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