Chester dropped down and raised Colonel Anderson's head to his knee.
"How do you feel, old man?" he asked.
"Rather weak and dizzy," was the Colonel's mumbled response.
"Where did the bullet hit you?"
"Top of the head some place," and Colonel Anderson raised a feeble hand and passed it over his head.
"Quiet now," said Chester. "I'll have you in the other room in a jiffy and we'll have a look at the wound. Will you make a light in the parlor, Miss Ellison?"
The girl hastened away to do as Chester requested and the lad assisted
Colonel Anderson to his feet.
"Put your arm around my neck," the lad commanded. "Lean all your weight on me and I'll drag you into the other room. You're too big for me to carry."
Colonel Anderson followed instructions and Chester dragged him to the parlor, where he laid him on a couch. Then he bent over and examined the wound.
"Doesn't amount to much," he said finally, rising. "Will you get me some water and a cloth. Miss Ellison? Also, if by any chance you can find it, a piece of adhesive plaster."