Ed was so relieved to hear a human voice that, as he said afterwards, “If it had been Bloodhound Pete himself I’d have welcomed him with open arms.” He hurried to the bushes looking down and saw there upon the ground the figure of a man. Stooping down, Ed made out a short disreputable man wearing an old sweater and peaked cap. “What’s the matter?” Ed cried, stretching out his hand to help him up. “I’m shot,” groaned the stranger, and Ed drew back his hand quickly, to find his fingers wet and sticky. With a shudder Ed realized that this was blood.
When this sorry figure saw that his rescuer was a mere boy in knickers an ugly scowl twisted his unpleasant features and he swore. “Who you with? Where’s your pa?” he snarled.
“I’m alone,” Ed replied. “What’s the matter? Can I help?”
“Well, half a loaf’s better than no bread, I s’pose,” the stranger retorted ungraciously. “See here, I was huntin’ and got shot to pieces accidentally, see? Get somebody to tie me up and carry me outa dis hold.”
“You’re not supposed to hunt on this reservation,” put in Ed.
“Dat’s none o’ your business,” snapped the wounded man, angry to see he had made a slip.
“I can tie you up some,” Ed offered, although he hesitated to stop for this “good turn” when Warde was in danger. However, though torn between two duties, he felt that he could do nothing else but render fir............