“Yes,” I said, as I grasped his hand warmly.
“Fever?”
“No,” I said, hesitatingly; “an accident.”
“Why don’t you tell him?” said Esau, sturdily. “I shot him.”
“You shot him?”
“Yes,” I said, quickly; “he let the rifle slip out of his hand somehow, and the ball hit me.”
“I’m not surprised,” cried Gunson, in a tone full of anger and contempt.
“Don’t say any more about it,” I cried. “It was an accident, and I’m getting better fast. Tell me about what you have been doing.”
Gunson laughed.
“Walking, wading in rivers, washing sand, climbing mountains, exposed to all sorts of weather, half-starved, half-frozen, and all to get the tempting gold.”