Mrs. Floyd closed the door in the face of the crowd, asking them to go
outside, but they remained in the hall, silent and awed, waiting for
news of the wounded man. Mrs. Floyd admitted Luke Bradley.

"My heavens, John, I had no idea he got such a clean sweep at you!" he
said, as he approached the bed. "Ef I'd a-knowed this I'd 'a' killed
the dirty scamp!"

"I'm all right," replied Westerfelt; "just a little loss of blood."
But his voice was faint and his eyelids drooped despite his effort to
keep them open. Worthy rapped at the door and was admitted.

"Doc Lash has rid out to Widow Treadwell's," he announced. "He's been
sent fer, an' ort ter git heer before long. It'll take a hour to git
Wells, even ef he's at home."

Harriet Floyd glanced at her mother when she heard this. Her knees
ached and her fingers felt stiff and numb, but she dared not stir.

Once Westerfelt opened his eyes and looked down at her.

"Do I hurt you?" she asked, softly.

"Not a bit." He smiled, and his eyes lingered on her face till their
lids dropped over them.




Chapter VII