The Olneyville tribune. (Providence, R.I.) 1893-189?, 1894-07-21
leaving the two men facing each

I
the man raised his rife from the
pommel OF the saddle, and Crandall
fired. The horse which the man was
riding sprang from the road, and at
the same moment its riders gun was
discharged The smoke from Gran
dall's own gun blew back into his
eyes, and he turned from it TO follow
the movements OF the man at whom
he had fired. As he saw the man still
erect in his saddle, he felt the fever
ish haste to fire again come over him
that men feel when they have shot
and missed, and know that their life
may be the forfeit Of their failure.
de threw another cartridge into the
chan ber OF his rife and raised it 10
his shoulder, but before he could fire
the man reeled from his saddle and
fell, while his frightened horse gal
loped OF through the pines.
Crandall stepped toward him hold
ing his rife prepared TO fire again IL
necessary. AS he did so the man
raised his hand and said, simply:
Don't fire-you've got me. "
The snow was already red with
blood where he lay. For the first
time Crandall looked for the scar that
the description said was on the right
cheek. For an instant he did not
see it, and his heart seemed TO stop
beating with the fear OF having made
mistake, and when, on drawing
narer, he saw that it was there, that
only the pallor which had spread over
the mans face had made il indis-
tinct, he could have cried out with
Joy at the feeling OF relief that passed
over him.
Are you badly wounded" he
asked.
II don't know how bad it is. 1t is
here somewhere, the man said,
placing his hand on his breast, as if
not certain Of the exact spot. 1T
feels numb like, he added. Stoop-
ing down, Crandall unbuckled and
took off the mans pistol belt and
threw il into the snow, where lay his
rife, and then he tore open the mans
shirt. AS he did so his fingers came
in contact with the warm blood, and
he involuntarily drew back with a
feeling OF disgust.
did you find it?" asked the man,
who was watching him closely and
who had observed the movement.
Recalled TO himself by the ques-
ton, Crandall again tore at the shirt,
exposing the breast. Where the
blood did not cover it it looked like
marble. He could not see the wound
on account Of the blood until he had
wiped the latter from the breast and
then he found it.
What do you think OF it?" the
man asked.
There it is" replied Crandall.
He could not say more. The appeal
ing tone in the mans voice for some
hope-some encouragement - made
him feel faint and sick.
What do you think Of it?" the
man repeated in querulous voice,
and as he did so he coughed until his
mouth filled with blood, and he spat
it out on the white snow.
Crandall shook his head and walked
toward where his horse was tied. He
felt that il he watched the wounded
man any longer he would faint.
Noticing his walking away, the
wounded man said:
For God sake, don't leave me.
Now that you have killed me, stay
with me, and don't let me die like II
dog"
The voice was one OF entreaty, and
Crandall returned and seated himself
in the snow by the mans side. The
sun had gone down and the twilight
had come on, bringing with it the
chill of night. Crandall covered the
wounded mans body with his over
coat and raised his head from the
snow. Almost unconsciously he
noted that as the patch Of red made
by the blood grew larger and larger,
the face OF the wounded man grew
whittier and winter. He never took
his eyes from Crandall's face, while
his breath came quicker and shorter,
as II he breathed with labor. With
each breath the blood seemed to bub-
bic from the wound in the breast. One
of the mans hands fell from under
the coat that covered him. AS Gran
dali raised il from the snow its cold
ness sent chill through him. Once
he had asked the wounded man if he
could do anything for him, but the
man had only shaken his head in re-
ply. Crandall felt like reviling him
self for what he had done, and Won
dered why the wounded man did not
reproach him. Even when he ex-
pressed his sorrow at having shot
him the dying man said, gently;
Don't mind it. It's too late now.'
The twilight gave way to darkness,
and still he sat there. He could not
hear the dying man breathe without
leaning over his face. He did this but
once though, and the dying man had
opened his eyes and looked up into
his face inquiringly. Crandall would
rather have stayed there until morn
ing than TO catch that look again.
Suddenly he heard a voice call to
him. He started as IL he had been
fired at, but il was only Lansing. As