|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 50
"I've done all that any one could do for him," said Patten, as though
defending himself because of Norton's continued unconsciousness. "He's
in pretty bad shape, Engle. Oh, I guess I can pull him through, but at
that it's going to be a close squeak. Lucky I was right on hand,
though." And he grew technical, spoke of blood pressures taken, of
traumatism superinducing prolonged coma, of this and that which made no
impression on the banker.
"You mentioned two wounds," Engle reminded him. "The one made by the
bullet and another. . . ."
"By his head striking as he fell? Yes; that would have completed the
work of the first shock in knocking him unconscious. But it is a
negligible affair now; he wouldn't know anything about it in the
morning if it weren't for the lump that'll be there. And since the
other injury, the long gouging cut made by the bullet, has just plowed
along the outer surface of the skull, I think that I can promise you
he'll be all right pretty soon now. We ought to have some ice, but
I've made cold compresses do."
Engle went again to look in upon Norton. The sheriff lay as before, on
his back, his limbs lax, his face deathly white, a bandage about his
head. A lump came into the banker's throat and he turned away. For he
remembered that just so had Billy Norton lain, that Billy Norton had
never regained consciousness . . . and that the blow then as now had
been struck by Galloway or Galloway's man. The sudden fear was upon
him that Rod Norton was even more badly hurt than Caleb Patten
admitted. The fear did not lessen as the night drew on and finally
brightened into another day. When the sun flared up out of the
flatlands lying beyond Tecolote the wounded man at Struve's hotel lay
as he had done all night giving no sign to tell whether he was life's
or death's.
CHAPTER XIII
CONCEALMENT
The eyes of San Juan were upon Caleb Patten throughout the night and
during the long hours of the following day. Under them his inflated
ego grew further distended while, waxing more technical than ever, he
explained how a man in Rod Norton's condition could live and yet lie
like a man dead. So prolific and involved were his medical phrases
that men like John Engle and Struve began to ask themselves if Patten
understood his case. When, after twelve hours, the wounded man awoke
to a troubled consciousness Patten's relief was scarcely less visible
than that of Norton's friends. Patten felt his prestige taking unto
itself new wings and immediately grew more wisely verbose than ever.
It was a rare privilege to have the most talked of and generally liked
man of the community under his hands; it was wine to Patten's soul to
have that man show signs of recovering under his skill.
So he drove well-wishers from the room, drew the shades, commanded
quiet and came and went eternally, doing nothing whatever and appearing
to be fighting, sleeves rolled up, for a threatened life. Long before
noon there were those who had laughed at Patten before, but who now
accused themselves of having failed to do him justice.
Virginia Page had remained all night with her patient in Las Estrellas.
The first rumor she had of the fight in the Casa Blanca was borne to
her ears by Ignacio's bell as she rode back toward San Juan. Only a
few hours ago she had talked with Galloway, watching him banter with
Florrie Engle; but a little before that, earlier in the same day, she
had seen Rod Norton. Before she galloped up to the old Mission garden
her heart was beating excitedly, and she was asking herself, a little
fearfully: "Is it Galloway or is it Rod Norton?" For she was so sure
that in the end Ignacio would ring the Captain for one of them.
Ignacio told her the story. Norton was lying in the hotel,
unconscious, Patten working over him; Jim Galloway and Antone were in
the little jail and soon would be taken to the county-seat; Kid Rickard
was shot through the lung but would live, Patten said; Vidal Nu�ez,
over whom the whole thing had started, was dead.
"If _mi amigo_ Roderico die," mumbled Ignacio, "it will be two
Nortones, two sheriffs, that die because of Galloway. If Roderico
live, then the next time he will kill Galloway. You will see,
_se�orita_."
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|