he exclaimed, "kin I see you an' Marse Cally Shannon by
yo'se'f? I done done sump'n dat you'll sho kill me 'bout."

"Well, don't make any secret of it," said I. "Out with it!" exclaimed
Harry.

"Marse Harry, I done gone an' shot Marse Jack Bledsoe."

"Good Lord!" cried Harry.

"Yasser, I done shot 'im, an' he's bad hurt, too. You know dat las'
time we went at um? Well, suh, I wuz shootin' at a man right at me, an'
he knock my han' down des ez I pull de trigger, an' de ball cotch him
right 'twix de hip an' de knee. He call me by my name, an' den it come
over me dat we done got mix' up in de shuffle an' dat I wuz shootin' at
you. But 'twuz Marse Jack Bledsoe; I know'd 'im time I look at 'im
good."

"Good heavens! Is he dead?" inquired Harry, his voice shaking a little
in spite of himself.

"He ain't dead yit, suh," replied Whistling Jim. "I got down off'n my
hoss an' pick 'im up an' take 'im out er de paff er de rucus, an' den
when you-all done des ez much shootin' an' killin' ez you wanter, I
went back an' put 'im on my hoss an' tuck 'im ter dat little house by
de river. Dey's a white lady dar, an' she say she'll take keer un' 'im
twel somebody come. Does you reckon any er his side gwineter come back
atter 'im, Marse Harry? Kaze ef dey don't, I dunner what de name er
goodness he gwineter do. Dar he is, an' dar he'll lay. I'm done sick er
war ef you call dis war--you hear me!"

Harry said nothing, but I knew he was thinking of the fair Katherine,
Jack's sister, and wondering if he would ever be to her what she was to
him. He had his face in his hands, and appeared ready to give way to
grief. General Forrest turned to an orderly: "Go fetch Grissom here;
tell him to come right away." The surgeon soon came, General Forrest
told Whistling Jim to lead the way, and we were soon riding through the
night in the direction of the river.

III

A fine mist was falling, and the night was so dark that we would never
have found our way but for a small dog whose inhospitable bark directed
us to the cabin. The dog was so disturbed by our approach that a woman
opened the door to see what the trouble could be. We found Jack Bledsoe
on a pallet, and saw at a glance that the woman had administered such
remedies as common-sense and experience had taught her would allay the
fever of a wound. He recognized us at once, and Harry could hardly keep
back his tears when he saw his college chum lying helpless on the
floor. He suppo