“He’s driving the rioters out of town at the point of the bayonet, Miss Halpert. He’s covering himself with glory.”
“Splendid!” She half rose in her seat, and clapped her hands together vigorously. Apparently she forgot all about Manning’s wound, and Chick’s illness, and Ben’s disgrace, for she turned quickly to her driver, and ordered him to make haste ahead.
“I want to catch up with the company,” she said. “I want to see Hal doing it.”
And the next minute she was out of sight.
When the three men started on again Manning’s footsteps were a little more uncertain, and Chick dragged himself a little more wearily than before.
In the middle of the next block Barriscale became suddenly aware that the boy was missing from his side. He looked back and saw him lying in a heap on the walk. He dropped his rifles and went and bent over him. Chick was white and insensible but he was breathing.
“Poor fellow!” said Manning, “the thing’s been too much for him. What’s to be done?”
Barriscale did not reply, but, looking up, he caught sight of a passing car. It was empty save for the driver, and he hailed it and commandeered it for his use. When it drew up to the curb [he helped to lift Chick into it], and he and Manning got in beside him.
