[Original]

“Could he have escaped, or is he among the dead lying here?” he thought. “I must search for him.”

And as he threaded his way among the dead and wounded as best he could in the twilight, he stumbled over the body of a boy. Kneeling down, he turned the lad's face upward, and in the dim light he knew him.

“It is Charlie Arlington!—he is surely dead!”

The boy opened his eyes, and seeing Ralph, he assured him that he was not wounded, but he feared his ankle was sprained. “I told you,” he said, with a smile, “that we should meet again.”

“You did, but I did not think it would be so soon. Are you injured?”

“Only by my horse, who stumbled and threw me with such force against that old stump that I fainted with pain. Do you think my leg is broken?”

“Let me examine it. No, I don't think it is. How are you going to ride, however? Where is your horse?”

“Oh, he ran away after serving me that mean trick. But why are you here? Don't you know you are my prisoner now?” he continued, smiling broadly.

“How's that?” Ralph spoke sharp and loud.