"Went clear through,
clean as a whistle!"
He tore a handkerchief into two parts, made wads, and pressing them
close over the wounds he bound them there with Ladd's scarf.
"Shore it's funny how a bullet can floor a man an' then not do any
damage," said Ladd. "I felt a zip of wind an' somethin' like a pat
on my chest an' down I went. Well, so much for the small caliber
with their steel bullets. Supposin' I'd connected with a .405!"
"Laddy, I--I'm afraid Thorne's done for," whispered Gale. "He's
lying over there in that crack. I can see part of him. He doesn't
move."
"I was wonderin' if I'd have to tell you that. Dick, he went down
hard hit, fallin', you know, limp an' soggy. It was a moral cinch
one of us would get it in this fight; but God! I'm sorry Thorne had
to be the man."
"Laddy, maybe he's not dead," replied Gale. He called aloud to his
friend. There was no answer.
Ladd got up, and, after peering keenly at the height of lava, he
strode swiftly across the space. It was only a dozen steps to the
crack in the lava where Thorne had fallen head first. Ladd bent
over, went to his knees, so that Gale saw only his head. Then
he appeared rising with arms round the cavalryman. He dragged
him across the hole to the sheltered corner that alone afforded
protection. He had scarcely reached it when a carbine cracked
and a bullet struck the flinty lava, striking sparks, then singing
away into the air.
Thorne was either dead or unconscious, and Gale, with a contracting
throat and numb heart, decided for the former.
Pages:
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278