A myriad of
sparks flashed before his eyes, there was the roar of a cataract in his
ears, and he fell to the ground like a log.
When consciousness came back to him it was morning. He was lying on the
floor of the shack and the hot sun was streaming in upon him. His head
ached horribly, and for a moment he wondered where he was. Then gradually
he recalled the events of the day before, the fracas in the saloon, the
tracking of the rustlers, the looking in at the window. But then it was
night, and now it was broad daylight. What had happened to him?
He put his hand to his head and felt that his hair was matted with blood.
Then he tried to rise to his feet, but found that they were tied
together, and sank back with a groan. The wall of the house was just
behind him, and he edged painfully toward it, until he was able to sit up
and have some support for his back. Then with swimming eyes he looked
around him.
As his vision cleared, he saw that there were two men sitting in the
center of the room. They had not spoken a word, but had watched with a
sort of amused interest his gradual coming back to life.
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