"
The trooper seemed glad to mount and ride away, and Payne once more
bent over the wounded man.
"Very sorry," he said. "Still, you see, you left me no other means of
stopping you. Now, is there anything I can do for you?"
A little wry smile crept into Courthorne's face. "Don't worry," he
said. "I had no wish to wait for the jury, and you can't get at an
injury that's inside me."
He said nothing more, and it seemed a very long while to Corporal
Payne, and Trooper Hilton, who rejoined him, before a wagon with two
men in it beside the trooper came jolting up the trail. They got out,
and one of them who was busy with Courthorne for some minutes nodded to
Payne.
"Any time in the next twelve hours. He may last that long," he said.
"Nobody's going to worry him now, but I'll see if I can revive him a
little when we get him to Adamson's. It can't be more than a league
away."
They lifted Courthorne, who appeared insensible, into the wagon, and
Payne signed to Trooper Hilton. "Take my horse, and tell Colonel
Barrington. Let him understand there's no time to lose. Then you can
bring Stimson."
The tired lad hoisted himself into his saddle, and groaned a little as
he rode away, but he did his errand, and late that night Barrington and
Dane drove up to a lonely homestead. A man led them into a room where
a limp figure was lying on a bed.
"Been kind of sleeping most of the day, but the doctor has given him
something that has wakened him," he said.
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