Try and Trust Or Abner Holden's Bound Boy Part 32

"You are a brave lad."

"I only did my duty," said Herbert, modestly.

"Help! help!" groaned the wretch below.

Herbert heard the cry of pain, and his heart was filled with pity. The man was, indeed, a villain. He had only been served right, as the landlord said. Still, he was a fellow-creature, and he was in pain.

Herbert could not regret that he had shot him; but he did regret the necessity, and he felt sympathy for him in his suffering.

"Poor fellow!" he said, compa.s.sionately; "I am afraid he is a good deal hurt."

"Poor fellow!" echoed the landlord. "It serves him right."

"Still, he is in pain, and he ought to be cared for."

"He has no claim upon us. He may he there till morning."

"No," said Mr. Carroll. "Herbert is right. He is guilty, but he is in pain, and it is the part of humanity to succor him. Landlord, if you will have him brought in, and send for the doctor, you may look to me for your pay."

"Yet, he was going to rob you, sir," said the landlord, considerably surprised.

"Yes, that is true; but you don't know how strongly he was tempted."

"He looks like a hard ticket. I didn't like to give him a bed, but we can't well refuse travelers, if they have money to pay their reckoning.

I made him pay in advance."

"Pray, lose no time," said Herbert, as another groan was heard; "I will go out and help you bring him in."

A lantern was lit, and the whole company followed the landlord out.

"Well," said he, throwing the light of the candle full on the sufferer's face, "you've got yourself into a fine pickle, haven't you?"

"Oh," groaned the burglar, "if it hadn't been for that accursed boy!"

"You'd have got off with the old gentleman's money. Well, it was rather unkind to interfere."

"Are you in much pain?" asked Herbert, bending over him.

There was something in his voice that betrayed the compa.s.sion he really felt.

The burglar looked up.

"You're the boy that wounded me, ain't you?" he asked.

"Yes," said Herbert.

"Curse you! I don't know but you've killed me. I'm shot through the shoulder. Then, that cursed fall! I feel as if I had broken my back."

"I did not want to shoot you," said Herbert.

"What did you do it for, then?"

"Because you forced me to it. You were after Mr. Carroll's money."

"Didn't I offer to divide with you?"

"Yes, but, of course, I would not agree to that."

"Are you so much better than common folks?" sneered the burglar.

"I don't know about that. I would not steal."

"Take him up," said the landlord to the hotel servants. "He don't deserve it, but I've promised the old gentleman we'd see to him. Tom White, you may go for the doctor."

Two men approached and attempted to lift the wounded burglar. But, in the first attempt, they touched the injured shoulder. He uttered a shriek of pain, and exclaimed, "You'll murder me!"

"Let me lift him," said Herbert. "Perhaps you were too rough."

At length, but not without much groaning on the part of the burglar, he was got into the house, and laid on a bed in a small room on the first floor.

"Do you feel better?" asked Herbert.

"A little."

"Do you think you have broken any bones in falling?"

"I thought so at first, but perhaps I am only bruised."

"When the doctor comes, he will extract the bullet, and relieve you of a good deal of your pain."

"You are a strange boy," said the burglar, with a look of surprise.

"Why am I?"

"You shot me, and yet you pretend to be sorry for me now."

"So I am."

"Then, why did you shoot me?"

"I have already told you. Because I was obliged to. I would not have done it, if there had been any other way. I shot the first barrel in the air."

"By accident?"

"No; I thought it would alarm you, and I might save the money without injuring you."

"Do you really mean that?"

"Yes."