“Yes, but he got it away from me.”
“Dan Newman! Well, I’ll be dog-gone! Before I would let a man like Dan Newman capture me—”
“But, Bud, he threw me down when I didn’t know he was near me,” protested Leon, “and when I turned over to see what had happened to me, there was my own revolver aimed straight at me.”
“Well, you will never have an opportunity to get even with him now,” said Bud. “He was shot right through the arm, and his brother got a bullet-hole through both cheeks.”
“Why, who did that?” exclaimed Leon, who felt very much disappointed to hear it. He had always contended that no Newman could handle him, and now he would have to live with that shadow on his mind.
“I don’t know; some of the pickets did it, Tom Howe was almost as worked up as your father. He’s down there now, helping gather up the wounded rebels,” said Bud, jerking his head down the road.
“I hope Dan will get well, for I am bound to try my strength with him some day,” said Leon. “Has anybody here got a horse that I can ride?”
“Take that gray,” said one of the men, “I have got to carry this man to Ellisville, so I will have to walk.”
Leon thanked him, unhitched the horse, swung himself upon his back and galloped across the bridge and down the road to the place where his two friends were at work. Tom and Dawson were surprised to see him, and while he was telling them the story he looked all around to find Dan and Cale. He wanted[wanted] to see how badly hurt Dan was, for he believed, if they were to measure strength once more, that Dan would go under.
“There’s one thing that happened about this business that you won’t like,” said Tom; and he spoke as though he was very much disheartened himself. “Old man Smith was badly wounded during the fight.”