"Why, no," said Cherry, "I didn't see him after the lamented tragedy."
"We can't leave the old man," said Malcolm.
"Wait," said the little gun-man. "I will go back and look for him."
Five minutes, ten passed and still there was no sign or sound of Israel Kensky or of Cherry, Then a shot broke the stillness of the night, and another and another.
"Two rifles and one revolver," said Malinkoff. "Get into the car, Highness. Are you ready, Peter?"
There was another shot and then a fusillade. Then came slow footsteps along the cart track, and the sound of a man's windy breathing.
"Take him, somebody," said Cherry.
Malinkoff lifted the inanimate figure from Cherry's shoulder and carried him into the car. A voice from the darkness shouted a command, there was a flash of fire and the "zip" of a bullet.
"Let her go, Percy," said Cherry, and blazed away with both guns into the darkness.
He leapt for the footboard and made it by a miracle, and only once did they hear him cry as if in pain.
"Are you hit?" asked Malcolm anxiously.
"Naw!" drawled his voice jerkily, for the road hereabouts was full of holes, and even speech
