man had been wounded?
but as they lifted him carefully into the boat, Tom being in and Dick
ashore, they both burst out with the query, as if moved by the same
spring.

"I know," said Dick, as the truth seemed to flash upon him. "Some one
must have shot him."

Tom had taken up the pole and was just about to force the boat along
when this announcement seemed to paralyse him, and he stood there
thinking of what had taken place before.

"Why, Dick," he whispered, "isn't it very horrible?"

"Don't talk," cried his companion, entering the boat; "let's get home."

The pole plashed in the water, which rippled against the bows, and once
more they glided over the surface, just as the injured man uttered a low
groan.

"We sha'n't be very long," said Dick, kneeling down and carefully
feeling whether the kerchiefs he had bound round the leg were fulfilling
their purpose. "Are you in much pain?"

"Pain!" groaned the man. "Hah! Give me some water."

There was no vessel of any kind in the punt, and Dick had to scoop up
some water in the hollow of his hand, and pour it between the injured
man's lips, with the result that he became sufficiently refreshed to sit
up a little and begin muttering.

Dick now took the pole, and it was Tom's turn to try and administer a
little comfort in the shape of words as to the time that would elapse
before they could reach the Toft; but the only result was to produce an
angry snarl from their patient.

"How does he seem?" Dick asked, as Tom went to his relief.

"Better not ask him."

"Why not?"

"Perhaps he'll bite you. He nearly did me. I say, how much farther is
it?"

"Take another quarter of an hour. Oh, I shall be glad, Tom! Work
hard."

Tom looked in his companion's face, and uttered a low laugh, as he
toiled away at the poling, and that laugh seemed to say more than a
dozen long speeches. Then there was nothing heard for some time but the
regular plash and ripple of the water, as it was disturbed by pole and
punt, while the darkness seemed to increase. At the same time, though,
the hopes of the two lads rose high, for, standing as it were alone in
the midst of the black darkness, there was a soft yellow light. At
first it was so dull and lambent that it suggested thoughts of the
will-o'-the-wisp. But this was no dancing flame, being a steady glow in
one fixed spot, and Tom expressed his companion's thoughts exactly as he
exclaimed:

"There's Hicky's old horn lant