"But you weren't at all likely to be in his place or any other where arrows were flying," interrupted Gus, with a laugh, which quickly subsided into a smothered titter as George looked at him, with the remark: "You had better mind your bones."
"I intend to," said Gus, coolly, "but you needn't glare at me so. You're not a Gorgon, I guess, and can't turn me into stone by a look."
"I am very glad Guy didn't knock the Indian's head right off," interposed Aggie, anxious to prevent a quarrel between the two boys.
"Aren't you glad of it, Guy, you wouldn't have liked to have killed him dead, would you?"
"Oh no!" returned Guy, laughing. "It answered my purpose just to kill him a little. Indeed," he added, turning pale at the thought, "I hope the poor man will not die."
"Don't trouble yourself about that," said Mr. Harwood, taking in his hand the gun which Guy had still retained, but then offered him, "you nobly did your duty, my boy, and though we will hope that the man will recover, we will not worry, because we cannot learn whether he does or not."
"I say, the men are harnessing the teams," exclaimed George. "Let us go and pick up some of the arrows the Indians threw around so plentifully."
"Yes," answered Guy, "and I'll bring you one, Aggie."
"Stay," said Mr. Harwood, "Here, Guy, is a more fitting weapon for you. Take this gun, and though I hope you may never again be obliged to use it against a fellow-creature, I hope your shots will always be as well directed as that of to-day."