“Carry him into the house, and send for Doctor Hopkins, quick,” she said.
“What! that dirty, bloody thing! Better let us carry him to the barn. It’s a blame sight better place than our boys get down South.”
“The house, I say,” answered the girl, sharply.
“Why, Miss Joyce,” said the other man, as he looked at her, “you are covered with blood.”
“Yes, I caught him as he fell from his horse,” she answered. “I am not hurt.”
The men were about to pick Calhoun up and carry him in according to the directions of the girl, when she exclaimed, “There comes Doctor Hopkins now.”
Sure enough, the Doctor had heard of the fight, and was coming at a remarkable speed, for him, to see if his professional services were needed. He reined in his horse, and jumping from his gig, ejaculated, “Why! why! what is this? And Miss Joyce all bloody!”
“I am not hurt. The man, Doctor,” she said.
The Doctor turned his attention to Calhoun. “As I live, one of Morgan’s men,” he exclaimed, “and hard hit, too. How did he come here?”
“His horse brought him,” answered one of the men. “He clung to his horse as far as here, when he fell off. Miss Joyce caught him as he fell. That is what makes her so bloody.”