gang. 'Tween--"

"Hark!" said the Doctor, suddenly interrupting the narrator.

Deep, agonizing groans were distinctly heard in the direction of the
Pass, which they were nearing.

"O, murder, what's that?" shouted daddy; and he wheeled his horse
about and gallopped homeward.

"Stop, come back here," shouted the Doctor, at the top of his voice.

The old man reluctantly obeyed. Approaching within a short distance of
the Doctor, he motioned that individual towards him. "O, Doctor,
'twont do fur to go furder," said he; "'tween you and me, I've heern
say, that's jist the way them robbers do, when they want to ketch
anybody. There goes that yell agin. O, that ere _is_ awful; we'll get
ketched; it won't do fur to stay here."

Exasperated beyond endurance at the cowardice of his guide, the Doctor
bade him remain where he was, while he went forward to reconnoitre. A
short ride round the point of the bluff brought him directly upon the
bleeding form of the desperado, who had attacked him the preceeding
evening. Hailing daddy, he alighted and approached the apparently
dying man.

"Prime Hawley, by gol!" exclaimed daddy, as he came up. "Why, Prime,"
said he, hopping briskly down from his saddle; "twixt you and me, how
did you get in this ere fix?"

"Oh! oh!" groaned Prime, "take me home; I'm dying."

"I'll take him home if you say so, Doctor," said daddy, "his heft is
nothing, and it's near by."

"Very well, I'll follow with the horses."

"I say, Prime," said the old man, when they had nearly reached the
home of the sufferer, "tween you and me, aint had nothin' to do with
Bloody Jim, have you!"

"Yes, I have; curse him!"

"He ain't nowhere 'bout here now, is he?"

"I expect not, oh! oh! I wish he was suffering as I am."

"O, Miss Hawley, 'tween you an' me, here's a sore trial fur you," said
daddy to a pale-faced, delicate looking woman, who met him at the
cabin door with looks of alarm.

Mrs. Hawley trembled violently, and her pale face grew a shade paler,
but she asked no questions, as she led the way to the bed. Her
silence, at first, impressed the Doctor with the idea that she was
accessory to her husband's guilt, and he watched her closely. No tear
dimmed her eye, no sigh escaped her, yet she seemed painfully alive to
the agony which her miserable husband endured, while the Doctor was
dressing his wound.

"Do you think he will live, Doctor?" she enquired in a sort of
hopeless, melancholy tone, as Dr. Good