of the bargain."

Stimulated by the whisky, this man had revived wonderfully, and soon the
four rode out of Keene on the road that followed the river southward.

Through the long hours of that black night the guide led them on their
journey. The road was indeed a wretched one, winding through deep
forests, over rocky hills and traversing gloomy valleys. As the night
advanced it grew colder until their teeth chattered and their blood
seemed stagnating in their veins. Many times they paused to give the
wounded one a drink from the bottle. Often this man was heard cursing in
Spanish and declaring that the distance was nearer a hundred miles than
twenty-five.

Morning was at hand when, exhausted and wretched, they entered
Elizabethtown. Soon they were clamoring at the door of a physician, into
whose home the wounded man was assisted as soon as the door was opened.

"Examine my head at once, doctor," he faintly urged, as he sat back in a
big armchair. "Find out where that infernal bullet is. Tell me if it's
somewhere inside my skull, and if I have a chance of recovery."

In a short time the bandages were removed and the doctor began his
examination.

"Well! well!" he exclaimed, as he saw where the bullet had entered. "How
long ago did this happen? Yesterday afternoon? Forty miles from here?
And you came all this distance? Well, you have sand! At first glance one
would suppose the ball had gone straight through your head. It struck
the frontal bone and was deflected, following over the coronal suture,
and here it is lodged in your scalp at the back of your head. I will
have it out in a moment."

He worked swiftly, clipping away the hair with a pair of scissors, and
then with a lance he made an incision and straightened up a moment
later, having a flattened piece of lead in his hand.

"My friend," he said, "you have grit, and I don't think you'll be laid
up very long with that wound. You're not at all seriously injured. It
must have been fired from some one below you. Was he shooting at a
deer?"

"Yes, senor," was the answer.

"Very strange," said the physician. "This is a thirty-two-calibre
bullet, and it's not like the kind used to shoot deer. Most remarkable."

He hastened to cleanse and dress the wound, again bandaging the man's
head.

"You are certain, senor, that this injury is not serious?" questioned
the wounded man, when everything had been done.

"I see no reason why it should be," was the answer. "It