The L'Anse sentinel., 1921-04-08

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sisns the blued stssi close b ths ~
canite butt.
When Ricardo glanced at Pachecs
after his scrutiny Of the pistol and
holster, the doctors dark eyes were
regarding him mlrthfully.
81 have been unnecessarily alarmed.
my general" said Pacheco. "Our
dear friend has been most fortunate
In his choice Of wounds 4
Hes a lucky Yankee; that's what
he Is. my dear Pacheco. A lucky Yam
keel" Ricardo leaned over and ex-
amined the bayonet-wound In Web
ster's left side. HE took the point
Of the steel on his pistol Se happened
to be wearing under his left arm"
he went on to explain. THAT turned
the bayonet and 1t slid along his ribs,
making a superficial fesh-wound."
Pacheco nodded. "And this bullet
merely burned the top Of his right
shoulder, while another passed
through his biceps without touching
the bone. His most severe wound is
this jab in the hip"
They stripped every stitch Of cloth
ing from Webster and went over him
carefully. At the back Of his head
they found little clotted blood from
a small split In the scalp; also they
found lump of generous proportions.
Pacheco laughed briefly but con-
tentedly.
"Then he is not even seriously in
juredT Ricardo interrupted that
laugh.
II would die Of fright II had to
fight this fine fellow a month from
today" the little doctor chirped. "The
man is In superb physical condition;
1t Is the bump on the head that rem
ders him unconscious-not loss Of
blood"
AS II to confirm this expert testi-
mony Webster at that moment breath
ed long and deeply, screwed up his
face and shook his head very slightly.
Thereafter for several minutes he
gave no further evidence of an active
interest in life-seeing which Pacheco
decided to take prompt advantage Of
his unconsciousness and probe the
wounds In his arm and shoulder for
the fragments of clothing which the
bullets must have carried into them.
After ten minutes of probing Pacheco
announced that he was through and
ready to bandage; whereupon John
Stuart Webster said family but very
distinctly, In English:
I'm awfully glad you are. Doc.
It hurt like h-li Did you manage
to get a bite on that fishing tripg
"Jack Webster, you scoundrel I"
Ricardo yelled joyously, and he shook
the patient with entire disregard of
the latter's wounds "Oh, man, Tn
glad you're not dead"
"Your sentiments appeal to me
strongly, my friend. Pm-too-tired
to look-at you Who the devil-are
your"
Fell silence, while Webster pre-
pared for another speech. "Where
am II"
"In the palace. We won pulled
up, and that forty-thousand dollar bet
of yours is safe. I'll cash the ticket
for you tomorrow morning."
"D--n the forty thousand. Where's
my Croppy BoyT
"Your what?"
my wild Irish blackthorn, Don
Juan Cafetero."
II hope, old man, he has ere now
that which all brave Irishmen and
true deserve-a harp with a crown.
In life the Irish have the harp with
out the crown, you know"
How did he der Webster Wills
| pered.
"He died hard, with the holes In
front-and he died for you"
Two big tears trickled slowly
through Webster's closed lids and roll
ed across his pale cheek. "Poor. lost
lonesome, misunderstood wreck" he
murmured presently, ''he was an ex-
tremist In all things. He used to sing
those wonderfully poetic ballads of his
people, remember one that began:
Green were the fields where my fore
fathers dwelt.' I think his heart was
In Kerry-so Wen send him there.
He's my dead, Ricardo; care for his
body, because Tm-going to plant
Don Juan with the-shamrocks. They
didn't understand him here. He was
an exile-so I'm going to send him
hOn>oD