The Argosy, Vol. XXIV No. 2 — page 65: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE TRACK OF MIDNIGHT. 257 ‘Look out |?’ Johnson cried. ‘‘ Keep under cover.’’ ‘‘ We'll have to get out of this as fast as we can, or we shall all be picked off like that,’’ Douglas exclaimed as he rejoined his companion and glanced at Warrigal, who lay where he fell with a bullét wound showing in his head. ‘“But what about Wilton? He’s not dead, and we cannot leave him,’’ Johnson said. ‘“ We must carry him,’’ Douglas answered. ‘‘ One carry him while the other keeps a lookout. The black’s as dead as a doornail.’”’ They stepped back to Wilton. He had come to again and was leaning upon one arm and glancing vacantly from side to side. “Try to hang on to my back,’’ Johnson said to him. ‘‘ Here’s Douglas. We were mistaken about him, but there’s no time to talk now. Pull yourself together, if you can, till we get you ont of this.”’ Wilton’s head was swimming and his mind was mazy and confused, as he felt himself being hoisted up on Johnson’s back. He held on as well as he could, not quite understanding why, and only dimly realizing that he was being carried somewhere, wondering now and again why he was taken over the roughest ground while there was a good open space near at hand. Then he noticed that the place was steep and evidently hard to climb, until at last he sank to the ground once more and went away into darkness just as he heard some one say, ‘‘ Thank God, we’re at the top.”’ * CHAPTER XVII.—TERRIBLE NEWS. WHEN Wilton was again able_to look around him and intelligently under- stand what he was looking at, he found himself lying on a stretcher bed in- side a fire lit room, while in front of the fire two men sat, with their backs towards him, smoking and conversing in a low tone. ‘‘Johnson,’’ he said, fancying that he recognized the voice of one of the speakers ; but the sound of his own voice, coming weak and thin, and the effort it cost him to speak at all, surprised him so much that when he saw one of the men turn and reveal the face of Douglas instead of that of John- son, it seemed quite in keeping with the other incongruities of his mind. The man rose and came over to him, Wilton watching him with wondering eyes, There was no dotibt but that it was Douglas, the dim, uncertain mind told itself, slowly trying to grasp why it should question the reality. ‘“ Are you awake again, old fellow ?’’ Douglas asked, bending over him. ‘“Ves. Have I been asleep? ‘There’s a—where is this?’ Wilton answered disjointedly. ‘This is Toombul. ‘You’re not too well, so don’t worry, but take things easy for a day or two. Johnson’s in the next room having acamp. He’s been with you all day, so Dick the stockman and I are taking our spell.”’ ‘‘What’s wrong ?’’ Wilton asked feebly. ‘‘I feel all played out, and there is something a ; Dick had also risen from his seat by the fire and had come over to Douglas, carrying in his-hand a pannikin he had taken from beside the fire. ‘‘ A drop . might’do him good,’’ he whispered. (E) Gomichbooks 3