“Tut-take the lantern,” he faltered. “You go ahead, will yuh? Look in the grain box. My !”
Brick grabbed the lantern and ran into the grain-room, a built-in room, adjoining the little office. A big grain-bin extended the full length of the room, with three different covers.
“That’n on the end,” panted the boy.
Brick lifted the cover and held up the lantern. Lying doubled up on some loose oats was Jimmy McKeever, his head a welter of blood. Silent and the men from the saloon crowded in and took a look.
“I—I ju-just found him that-a-way,” explained the boy. “I dunno how I did it. We didn’t use that bin any more. Sus-somethin’ made me look in there, I reckon.”
Brick fastened back the cover and climbed into the bin.
“One of yuh go after the doctor,” he ordered, and a man hurried away.
Brick lifted McKeever up to where they could all get hold of him, and they placed him on the floor of the stable.
Brick examined him, while Silent knelt down and held the lantern.
“I don’t reckon he needs a doctor,” observed Silent.