“Those four men we shot down, you know,” Frank explained.
“Think you—”
Bob’s question went uncompleted.
“I don’t know,” Frank replied. “We shot straight. It was your life and ours against theirs.”
“Well, come on. I know how you feel, but I expect that’s the first thing to be attended to. If any of them is no more than wounded, it will be up to us to do what we can for him.”
“Come on,” Frank said shortly, starting down the hillside, in the direction of their successful, though impromptu, ambuscade.
“Go easy,” warned Bob. “If they’re able to shoot, they’ll take a crack at us.”
Bob’s advice was followed, and the trio approached the spot warily. But precaution was needless, or, while still some distance away, they could see the four bodies outstretched motionless where they had fallen. Frank’s face went white, and he shuddered. Jack was pale. Big Bob, although he had had no hand in the affray, had to take a grip on himself, in order to force his laggard steps to continue. Though many were the affairs of danger in which they had been, the boys had never before shot to kill nor had death been brought so close to them.
Frank stopped. He was trembling violently.