"I think I got the scoundrel, sir."
In another moment Hal was beside the tree, holding his rifle clubbed and ready, in case Tip Branders was playing 'possum.
But the fellow lay on the ground, curiously huddled up, not moving a hand.
"I got him with that last shot, sir," announced Private Overton, turning and carefully saluting his officer.
"You've had a brisk and brave fight, Sentry," cried Captain Ruggles warmly. "I heard your first shot, and rushed here as fast as I could come."
In reality, long as the time had seemed, hardly more than a full minute had passed. Captain Ruggles, with a pair of white-striped trousers drawn on over his pajamas, and slippers on his feet, presented a picture of speed.
Hal bent beside his old enemy of the home town to see where Tip had been hit.
Captain Ruggles, changing his revolver to his left hand, drew a match and struck it.
Tip's first apparent wound was a graze at the top of his right shoulder. A dark, red stain appeared there. Another bullet had grazed his right wrist.
The third wound apparent was at the right side of the chest.