"Yes, in a measure; he won't go round White-Capping any more, though. But I'll make that all right. I'll meet that feller Lyman and put up his shutters. Sit down." "No, there's a house up yonder and I'll take you there. You may be injured in some way. Let's see if you can walk. Lean on me. That's it." "I can't walk fast, Jim. Believe I am hurt some. I'd a drounded out there if it hadn't been for you, Jim. Ah--h. I don't believe I can go on. I'm sick." "Here, let me get my arm around you so I can hold you up better. Now you're all right. It's only a little way." They soon came to the house. The barking of dogs brought a man out to the fence. In a few words Lyman told him what had happened. Sawyer was unable to walk further and they took him into the house and put him upon a bed. An excited woman bathed his face, and a barefoot boy, as fleet as a deer, was sent across the creek for a doctor. Lyman waited until he came. He said that Sawyer was badly bruised, but added that he did not appear to be fatally hurt. While they were talking, Sawyer opened his eyes. "Where's Jim?" he inquired. "Here," said Lyman, stepping forward. "Merciful God," the wounded man moaned, and covered his face with his hands. Lyman stepped back, and Sawyer, putting out his hand, with his eyes closed, said to him: "Please don't leave me." "I will stay until daylight," said Lyman. "Thank you, sir. Don't leave me." CHAPTER XXVII. THE REVENGE. Early the next morning Pitt and his daughter drove to town with Warren. The promise of government seeds had greatly excited the old fellow, and, three times before the breaking of day, did he get up and look out, impatient of the darkness that still lay in the east. Warren gave him the seeds and had gone down to see them off for home before he happened to realize that Lyman was not in the office. He went up stairs and inquired after him. The boy said that he had not come. He sat down in a fear that his friend was lost in the woods, and was thinking of setting out to look for him when Lyman walked in, looking worn and tired. "Why, what's the matter?" Warren cried. "You look like a whipped rooster." "I am," said Lyman sitting down. "A prop has been knocked from under me and I have fallen down. For several days I have been nursing a sweet revenge. I said nothing about it, but I was going to knock a man down, tie him and horse-whip him." "Well, why don't you? Is he gone?" "Yes, beyond my reach. I thought that for once in my life I would act the part of a very natural man, but it has been denied me. I will tell you." He narrated his adventure. Warren sat staring at him. "It's just your luck, Lyman. But, why didn't you throw him back into the creek? Why didn't you stamp him into the ground? And you have spoiled another piece of news. What do you expect will become of you if you keep on this way?"