the outlaw's side.

Stevens was pale, and his face bore beads of sweat. The whole front of
his shirt was soaked with blood.

"You're shot!" cried Duane.

"Wal, who 'n hell said I wasn't? Would you mind givin' me a lift--on
this here pack?"

Duane lifted the heavy pack down and then helped Stevens to dismount.
The outlaw had a bloody foam on his lips, and he was spitting blood.

"Oh, why didn't you say so!" cried Duane. "I never thought. You seemed
all right."

"Wal, Luke Stevens may be as gabby as an old woman, but sometimes he
doesn't say anythin'. It wouldn't have done no good."

Duane bade him sit down, removed his shirt, and washed the blood from
his breast and back. Stevens had been shot in the breast, fairly low
down, and the bullet had gone clear through him. His ride, holding
himself and that heavy pack in the saddle, had been a feat little short
of marvelous. Duane did not see how it had been possible, and he felt no
hope for the outlaw. But he plugged the wounds and bound them tightly.

"Feller's name was Brown," Stevens said. "Me an' him fell out over a
hoss I stole from him over in Huntsville. We had a shootin'-scrape then.
Wal, as I was straddlin' my hoss back there in Mercer I seen this Brown,
an' seen him before he seen me. Could have killed him, too. But I wasn't
breakin' my word to you. I kind of hoped he wouldn't spot me. But he
did--an' fust shot he got me here. What do you think of this hole?"

"It's pretty bad," replied Duane; and he could not look the cheerful
outlaw in the eyes.

"I reckon it is. Wal, I've had some bad wounds I lived over. Guess mebbe
I can stand this one. Now, Buck, get me some place in the brakes, leave
me some grub an' water at my hand, an' then you clear out."

"Leave you here alone?" asked Duane, sharply.

"Shore. You see, I can't keep up with you. Brown an' his friends will
foller us across the river a ways. You've got to think of number one in
this game."

"What would you do in my case?" asked Duane, curiously.

"Wal, I reckon I'd clear out an' save my hide," replied Stevens.

Duane felt inclined to doubt the outlaw's assertion. For his own part he
decided his conduct without further speech. First he watered the horses,
filled canteens and water bag, and then tied the pack upon his own
horse. That done, he lifted Stevens upon his horse, and, holding him in
the saddle, turned into the brakes, being careful to pick out hard or
grassy ground that left little