“I heard somebody there,” offered Harp. “When I went out I heard a noise over by the corner, but I thought it was a dog.”
“Well, he’s still alive,” said Banty Harrison. “While there’s life there’s hope. By , I’d like to get my hands on that dirty murderer. I’d sure”
Banty stopped when Brick Davidson, half-dressed, came through the doorway. He squinted around at everyone, stepped in close to Soapy and looked down at him.
“I heard the shot,” said Brick. “Tell me about it, somebody.”
“Not much to tell, Brick,” said Grant. “Soapy stepped out on the porch and somebody shot him. They must have been layin’ for him. Slater has gone after Doc Meyers.”
A few moments later the doctor came, half-asleep, half-dressed. He knelt down beside Soapy, while Brick assisted him with his examination.
“Buck-shot,” said Brick angrily. “They wasn’t takin’ no chances, boys.”
The doctor was counting the wounds and estimating just what to do.
“What’s his chances, Doc?” queried Brick.
“Odds against him, I’m afraid. Five of them hit him above the waist and he’s got a couple in his thigh. Somebody get a blanket for a stretcher and we’ll carry him down to my place. None of the lead hit him in a vital spot, but he will have a fight ahead of him. I suppose that some of ’em will be hard to locate, but we’ll do our best.”