make
up our minds what to do."

There was no dissenting voice raised against this proposition, and Ralph
began the search by directing the boys to stand in a row, about ten feet
apart, and then walk straight down to the fence, carefully examining
every place in which George could have hidden.

In this way a lane, at least forty feet wide, was examined thoroughly,
and as nothing was found by the time they reached the fence, the line
was formed again ten feet further on, the march continuing until they
reached a point abreast of the one they had started from.

No one spoke during this search, for it seemed as though they were
hunting for the lifeless body of their friend, and when again they
arrived at the fence, they ranged along in a new line, silently, afraid
almost to look at the ground because of that which they might see.

And at least a portion of their fears were to be realized, for as they
walked along on this third sad journey, they first found a place where
the bushes and ferns had been trampled down as if some desperate
struggle had taken place, and then, a few feet further on, almost hidden
in a pile of brushwood, they saw that for which they sought.

It was the body of George, looking as if all life had departed, the face
beaten by cruel blows until it was nearly unrecognizable, the clothing
torn, and lying still as death.

Even then no one spoke; no cry of alarm or of astonishment was given,
for this was what they had been expecting to find during all the search.

Neither of the moonlighters had recovered from their first bewilderment,
and, as if this show of helplessness on the part of his companions
nerved him up, Ralph still preserved his presence of mind.

Kneeling down by the apparently lifeless body, Ralph unfastened or tore
apart the clothing, until he could lay his hand over his friend's heart.
After an instant's silence, during which it seemed to each boy that he
could hear the pulsations of his own heart, Ralph said in a hard,
unnatural voice, which no one would have recognized as his:

"He is not dead, for I can feel his heart beat feebly. One of you go for
a physician, while the others help me carry him to the house."

"You take my horses, and drive first to Sawyer and then to Bradford for
three or four of the best doctors you can find, and drive faster than
you ever drove before," said Bob to Jim.

The latter, finding actual relief in having something definite to do,
started off at