Somers reached forward, and put his hand on the part of the major’s head where the pistol ball had struck him; but there was not the slightest abrasion of the skin; in a word, the head was in good order and condition, and it was absolutely certain that no bullet had passed through his skull.
“I am satisfied, Major Riggleston,” replied Somers, though he was still in a bewildered state of mind. “I owe you an apology for the rude treatment to which I subjected you on a former occasion. You are not the man I took you to be; and I hope you will pardon my rough speech and unfriendly manners.”
“Cheerfully, Captain Somers. Here is my hand,” replied the major, evidently as much pleased to forgive as the scout was to be forgiven.
“I am satisfied now.”
“But I am not,” responded the major.
“Last night, about eleven o’clock, I shot you through the head,” said Somers, facetiously.
“Me!”
“Yes, you!”
“Well, perhaps you did; but I did not feel it.”
“I was willing, a moment ago, to give my affidavit that you were the person. I was mistaken this time, as I was yesterday when I accused you of being a traitor. By the way, Major Riggleston,” added Somers, as he took from his pocket the two passes he had received from the mysterious personage in the ravine, and selecting the Union one, handed it to his companion, “is this document yours?”