Saw the smoke--heard axe--I don't blame you.
You're a good sport--pretty quick--but--rotten shot! Oh, Lord--such--rotten--shot--" And he tried vainly to grin up into Jolly Roger's face as he became a lifeless weight in the other's arms.
Jolly Roger was sobbing.

He was sobbing, in a strange, hard man-fashion, as he tore open Cassidy's shirt and saw the red wound that went clean through Cassidy's right breast just under the shoulder.

And Peter still heard that strange sound coming from his lips, a moaning as if for breath, as his master ran and brought up water, and worked over the fallen man.

And then he got under Cassidy, and rose up with him on his shoulders, and staggered off with him toward the creek.

There he found a path, a narrow foot trail, and not once did he stop with his burden until he came into a little clearing, out of which Cassidy had seen the smoke rising.