Lawrence would not have known him with his head all swathed up, if he had not been pointed out to him. The meeting between the two friends was a joyful one.
"How are the folks and how did they take my being wounded?" was Leon's first question.
And thus it is. The first thought of a soldier as he sinks dying or wounded on the battlefield is of home and the loved ones.
Lawrence told him and added, "Lola was crazy to come to you, but you know it could not be."
"I reckon there would be another one besides me glad to see Lola," said Leon. "Poor Randolph, he lies on the third cot, there. Don't go to him, he seems to be asleep, and he needs rest. The surgeons cut the ball from his thigh yesterday. It had lodged against the bone. They have hopes of his recovery now, if blood poisoning does not set in. He has been delirious most of the time, and what do you think? He is continually raving about Lola. Seems to be living over again the time he was pursued as a spy, and would have been captured if it had not been for her."
Somehow it gave Lawrence a little pang to hear this, then he cast the thought out as unworthy.
When Randolph awoke, Lawrence went to him, pressed his hand in sympathy and whispered that everything was all right, and not to talk. Randolph smiled and, closing his eyes, went to sleep again.
The doctor came and looked at him. "Friend of yours?" he asked of Lawrence.
Lawrence nodded.
"Mighty plucky fellow. Had a close call, but I think he will pull through. Fever's most gone," exclaimed the doctor as he felt Randolph's pulse and then hurried away.