But this dimness of sight and weakness of body did not last. I saw two men
on the ground, with Dick standing over them. Stockton was closing in.
Greaser ran around them with something in his hand that glittered in the
firelight. Stockton dived for Dick's legs and upset him. They went down
together, and the Mexican leaped on them, waving the bright thing high over
his head.
I bounded forward, and, grasping his wrist with both hands, I wrenched his
arm with all my might. Some one struck me over the head. I saw a million
darting points of light--then all went black.
When I opened my eyes the sun was shining. I had a queer, numb feeling all
over, and my head hurt terribly. Everything about me was hazy. I did not
know where I was. After a little I struggled to sit up, and with great
difficulty managed it. My hands were tied. Then it all came back to me.
Stockton stood before me holding a tin cup of water toward my lips. My
throat was parched, and I drank. Stockton had a great bruise on his
forehead; his nostrils were crusted with blood, and his shirt was half torn
off.
"You're all right?" he said.
"Sure," I replied, which was not true.
I imagined that a look of relief came over his face. Next I saw Bill
nursing his eye, and bathing it with a wet handkerchief.
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