He was startled from this view by a shrill outcry from the tattered man.
"Gawd! He's runnin'!" Turning his head swiftly, the youth saw his friend running in a staggering and stumbling way toward a little clump of bushes.

His heart seemed to wrench itself almost free from his body at this sight.
He made a noise of pain.

He and the tattered man began a pursuit.
There was a singular race.
When he overtook the tall soldier he began to plead with all the words he could find.

"Jim--Jim--what are you doing--what makes you do this way--you'll hurt yerself." The same purpose was in the tall soldier's face.

He protested in a dulled way, keeping his eyes fastened on the mystic place of his intentions.