“It were more merciful to shoot him on the spot,” said Judah, but even he felt now the sheer human repulsion from such butchery master him, as they moved slowly and carefully up the steep ascent. The Rangers were completely routed by the desperate valor of the Brown men. Incredible as it seemed, most of the enemy had been killed outright and a number of prisoners taken, who were to be tried by court-martial and shot, according to the rough justice of the times. The anti-slavery men met with small loss, but among the wounded was Ebenezer Maybee. With the other wounded men he was carried back to camp; at sunrise the next morning he was aroused from his stupor by a volley of musketry. Steward was at his side. He asked what it meant. “Well, partner, you know we won the fight,” said he. “Captain Brown is a shootin’ all the pris’ners; well, now, ain’t that tough fer a prefesser?” “No, not all the prisoners,” replied the Parson. “The most of them have been begged off by young Maxwell. He’s the most softest hearted young feller I ever met for such a good shot.” “This yer’s a good cause to go in, Parson.” The Parson answered gruffly, in a choked voice: “You ain’t goin’ nowhere, partner; we’ll pull you through.” Maybee’s face worked, and he planted a knowing wink in vacancy. “We’ve been partners fer a right smart spell, ain’t we, Parson?” The Parson frowned hard to keep back the tears. “You’re a man to tie to, Maybee.” “No, now,” sputtered Maybee, breaking down at last; “d-- ye, Parson, don’t make a baby er me.” Then with a change of voice he asked, “What’s come o’ Thomson an’ the colonel?” “Devil’s got the colonel and he’s waiting fer Thomson; we’ve got him with a broken back next door to this house. Judah did it. My! but that boy’s as ferocious as a tiger.” Maybee nodded. “Well, he’s a good boy, is Jude; I’ve knowed him sense he was knee-high to a toad; been through a heap; don’ blame him fer bein’ ferocious. I ain’t sorry I jined the boys, Parson, fer all I got my ticket. It’s a good cause, Parson, a good cause, and you’ll see a heap o’ fun befo’ you’re through with it; wish’t I could be here to see it, too. You found your ol’ woman and the kids all safe, Parson?” “I did,” replied the Parson, cordially. “Jes’ break it gently to Ma’ Jane, partner, that I got my death in an hones’ fight, an’ tell her she’s all right, havin’ everything in her name an’ power of attorney to boot.” “I will do so,” promised the Parson, solemnly. One of the men came in with a message for the Parson. Thomson was conscious and going fast; he wanted the Parson and Winona. Thomson still lived; none knew why; his stupor had left him conscious. Paralyzed in every limb, he could talk in a strong voice and was perfectly sane, and recognized those about him, but he was going fast. “How long do you give me, doc?” he asked Warren, jokingly. “Until it touches the heart,” replied Warren solemnly. “Then it will be soon?” Warren nodded.