Miss Sampson and Sally had come in sight, were swiftly approaching, evidently alarmed.

Steele, no doubt, had remained out at the camp.

I was watching them, wondering what they would do and say presently, and then Sampson and Johnson came to carry me indoors.

They laid me on the couch in the parlor where the girls used to be so often.
"Russ, you're pretty hard hit," said Sampson, bending over me, with his hands at my breast.

The room was bright with sunshine, yet the light seemed to be fading.
"Reckon I am," I replied.
"I'm sorry.