Exasperated beyond endurance at the cowardice of his guide, the Doctor bade him remain where he was, while he went forward to reconnoitre. A short ride round the point of the bluff brought him directly upon the bleeding form of the desperado, who had attacked him the preceeding evening. Hailing daddy, he alighted and approached the apparently dying man.
"Prime Hawley, by gol!" exclaimed daddy, as he came up. "Why, Prime," said he, hopping briskly down from his saddle; "twixt you and me, how did you get in this ere fix?"
"Oh! oh!" groaned Prime, "take me home; I'm dying."
"I'll take him home if you say so, Doctor," said daddy, "his heft is nothing, and it's near by."
"Very well, I'll follow with the horses."
"I say, Prime," said the old man, when they had nearly reached the home of the sufferer, "tween you and me, aint had nothin' to do with Bloody Jim, have you!"
"Yes, I have; curse him!"
"He ain't nowhere 'bout here now, is he?"
"I expect not, oh! oh! I wish he was suffering as I am."
"O, Miss Hawley, 'tween you an' me, here's a sore trial fur you," said daddy to a pale-faced, delicate looking woman, who met him at the cabin door with looks of alarm.