Dazed, he drew his hand across his face, and stared wonderingly at
the scarlet drops on his fingers. Then he turned and looked down at
Paddy with a whimsical, questioning smile. Paddy repeated his query.
"Are you hurt, little one?" he demanded, for the second time, as he
shook Weldon's arm.
Weldon steadied at the touch.
"No; only scratched a bit. It is nothing to last at all. Are you all
right?"
Paddy shut his hand over a shattered finger.
"Glory be! And the snakes of Boers is wriggling off to their holes.
And now, where's the Captain?"
They found him a little apart from the line, slightly to the front
and close beside a scattered heap of bearded men. His face was white
and the lines of his face were rigid and drawn; but he hailed them
just as he always had been used to do.
"My luck has changed," he added quietly. "They have taken my leg,
this time. Still, it's not so very painful. I'll fill my pipe first,
and then will you two fellows help me back, till we can find an
ambulance?"
CHAPTER NINETEEN
In a quiet corner of the crowded hospital at Johannesburg, one
narrow bed was screened away from its neighbors. Beside the bed sat
Ethel Dent, and Weldon leaned against the wall beyond.
Pages:
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225