es.

It had come to pass that his wound pained him but little. He was
afraid to move rapidly, however, for a dread of disturbing it. He held
his head very still and took many precautions against stumbling. He
was filled with anxiety, and his face was pinched and drawn in
anticipation of the pain of any sudden mistake of his feet in the gloom.

His thoughts, as he walked, fixed intently upon his hurt. There was a
cool, liquid feeling about it and he imagined blood moving slowly down
under his hair. His head seemed swollen to a size that made him think
his neck to be inadequate.

The new silence of his wound made much worriment. The little
blistering voices of pain that had called out from his scalp were, he
thought, definite in their expression of danger. By them he believed
he could measure his plight. But when they remained ominously silent
he became frightened and imagined terrible fingers that clutched into
his brain.

Amid it he began to reflect upon various incidents and conditions of
the past. He bethought him of certain meals his mother had cooked at
home, in which those dishes of which he was particularly fond had
occupied prominent positions. He saw the spread table. The pine walls
of the kitchen were glowing in the warm light from the stove. Too, he
remembered how he and his companions used to go from the school-house
to the bank of a shaded pool. He saw his clothes in disorderly array
upon the grass of the bank. He felt the swash of the fragrant water
upon his body. The leaves of the overhanging maple rustled with melody
in the wind of youthful summer.

He was overcome presently by a dragging weariness. His head hung
forward and his shoulders were stooped as if he were bearing a great
bundle. His feet shuffled along the ground.

He held continuous arguments as to whether he should lie down and sleep
at some near spot, or force himself on until he reached a certain
haven. He often tried to dismiss the question, but his body persisted
in rebellion and his senses nagged at him like pampered babies.

At last he heard a cheery voice near his shoulder: "Yeh seem t' be in a
pretty bad way, boy?"

The youth did not look up, but he assented with thick tongue. "Uh!"

The owner of the cheery voice took him firmly by the arm. "Well," he
said, with a round laugh, "I'm goin' your way. Th' hull gang is goin'
your way. An' I guess I kin give yeh a lift." They began to walk like
a drunken man