“He isn't gone yet. Get a light, will you?” Dick ran back into the house and brought out Van Deelen with a lamp and some improvised bandages. Beveridge had some practical knowledge of first aid to the injured; and the farmer seemed really to have some little skill, as a man must who lives with his family twenty-five miles from a physician. And so between them they managed to stanch the flow of blood while Dick and Pink were carrying a small bed out of doors. With great care not to start the flow again, they carried him into the front room. “Did you notice,” said Beveridge to Smiley, when they had made him as comfortable as they could, “where he was hit?” “In the back, wasn't it?” “Yes, and a little to the right. Now if he fell straight,--and I think he did, because the way he went shows that he was running, and that he simply pitched forward,--the shot must have come from near the bridge, maybe from those trees a little down-stream from the bridge. Now there's just one man could have done it, to my notion. He was an old hand, because it was a pretty shot at the distance and in that _light_.” “Who do you think?” “Well, now, there's Roche. He skipped out some time ago and left Estelle in the woods. He wouldn't have done that unless he was badly scared, would he? Isn't he a pretty poor lot, anyway--no nerve, just bluster?” “That's Pete. If he is fairly started running, he won't stop to-night.” “That's about what I thought about him. It's pretty plain he would never have come back here with McGlory after him--you see McGlory _had_ come after him,--he was chasing Roche because he had run off with Estelle--and made such a cool shot as that was. So we 'll rule out Roche. And McGlory is ruled out too, and Estelle.” “Oh--” “So that leaves just 'the boss'--Spencer.” “That sounds reasonable.” “He has nerve enough for anything, hasn't he?” “He looks as if he had.” “Now I 'll tell you what we 'll do. We 'll get this Dutch woman to nurse Bert here, and then the four of us will step down to the bridge and see what we can make of it--or hold on; I 'll take Van Deelen and go to the bridge, and you and Harper can go down to the creek below the barn and work up to the bridge. What do you think of that?” “First-rate.” “You aren't too fagged?” “Not me--not while the rest of you are on your pins.” “That's the talk. I 'll see about the woman here.” “Say, Bill, wait a minute. You aren't planning to walk right up to the bridge, are you?” “Sure. Why not?” “If I was you, I'd work around through the trees a little. He may be there yet, and we know how he can shoot.” “What's the use? It's all a gamble anyhow. The thing to do is to go on the run. A man is a good deal like a dog, you know. If you run right at him and show all over you that you mean business, why, even if he thinks he is ready for you, it's likely to bother him. Upsets his nerve--starts him thinking he is on the losing side.” CHAPTER XIII--WHISKEY JIM [Illustration: 0358]