A few yards beyond where the old woman lay moaning he came upon the cave
in which the bandits made their home. Holding the lantern above his
head, Bonner peered eagerly into the cavern. In the farthest corner
crouched a girl, her terror-struck eyes fastened upon the stranger.
"How do you do, Miss Gray," came the cheery greeting from his lips. She
gasped, swept her hand over her eyes, and tried piteously to speak. The
words would not come. "The long-prayed-for rescue has come. You are
free--that is, as soon as we find our way out of this place. Let me
introduce myself as Jack, the Giant Killer--hello! Don't do that! Oh,
the devil!" She had toppled over in a dead faint.
How Wicker Bonner, with his wounded leg, weak from loss of blood, and
faint from the reaction, carried her from the cave through the passage
and the trap-door and into the tent can only be imagined, not described.
He only knew that it was necessary to remove her from the place, and
that his strength would soon be gone. The sun was tinting the east
before she opened her eyes and shuddered. In the meantime he had
stanched the flow of blood in the fleshy part of his leg, binding the
limb tightly with a piece of rope. It was an ugly, glancing cut made by
a bullet of large calibre, and it was sure to put him on crutches for
some time to come. Even now he was scarcely able to move the member.
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