Apparently satisfied that the prisoners were well warned, he
gave his whole attention to his patient.
He washed the wound carefully. Then he made a compress of one of the
towels, and bound it with the other two. Looking up, he discovered
Bennington watching him intently.
"It's all right!" he assured the latter in answer to the question in
his eyes. "Nothing but a scratch. Lie still a minute till I get this
fastened, and you can sit up and watch the rat hole while I get you
some clothes."
In another moment or so the young man was propped up against an empty
ore "bucket," his shoulder bound, and his hand slung comfortably in a
sling from his neck.
"There you are," said Jim cheerily. "Now you take my six-shooter and
watch that aggregation till I get back. They won't come out any, but
you may as well be sure."
He handed Bennington his revolver, and moved off in the direction of
the cabin, whistling cheerfully. The young man looked after him
thoughtfully. Nothing could have been more considerate than the
Westerner's manner, nothing could have been kinder than his prompt
action--Bennington saw that his pony, now cropping the brush near at
hand, was black with sweat--nothing could have been more
straightforward than his assistance in the matter of the claims.
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