"That was because Cal was shooting so wild," remarked the Captain.
"Three of the shots came mighty close to him. Only missed him by a hair's breadth."
"Glad to hear Cal is improving," said Lamar dryly, as he walked towards Lawrence.
He had no sooner looked him in the face than an expression of surprise came over his countenance. He stepped back, swept his hand across his eyes, as if he was brushing away something, looked again and then turned away, saying, "There'll be no hanging. Untie the prisoner and bring him to my tent."
The men gazed at each other in astonishment. But great as was their surprise, greater was Lawrence's. The shock was almost as great as when he thought he had to die. Then he began to realize he had stepped from the shadow of death, and there was hope of living, and he breathed a prayer of thankfulness.
His surprise grew when Lamar called the two men who had captured him and asked what they had of his.
"Everything, Captain, but his hoss. That was killed. But we 'uns have got the hoss of the Yank that was killed," they answered.
"Well, bring everything you have of his, and the horse you captured—saddled and bridled," he ordered, and the men departed wondering.
When Lawrence was brought before Lamar he asked him what he was doing in this part of the country. Lawrence told him he had been to visit Judge Lindsly, who had greatly befriended him when he was small.
"Are you the boy whose father was tarred and feathered, and the Judge took you both in?"