He moved restlessly at intervals.

Fremont brought water and used it freely, but its application did not produce any immediate effect.
Realizing that a surgeon should be summoned at once, the boy moved toward the telephone.
However, he found himself unable to bring himself to the point of communicating with the surgeon he had in mind.

Questions would be asked, and he would be suspected, and the intervention of the Boy Scouts could do him no good.

He understood now that his every hope for the future centered in the little lad who was hurrying through the night in quest of Ned Nestor, his patrol leader.

If these boys of the Wolf Patrol should decide against him, and the injured man should not recover, there was the end of life and of hope.