Groaning heavily and in a state of
semi-unconsciousness he was driven by Turner, in the same buggy in
which he had been shot, to Doctor Price's house, which lay between
Mink Run and the town.
The doctor examined the wound, which was serious. A charge of buckshot
had been fired at close range, from a clump of bushes by the wayside,
and the charge had taken effect in the side of the face. The sight of
one eye was destroyed beyond a peradventure, and that of the other
endangered by a possible injury to the optic nerve. A sedative was
administered, as many as possible of the shot extracted, and the
wounds dressed. Meantime a messenger was despatched to Sycamore for
Fetters, senior, who came before morning post-haste. To his anxious
inquiries the doctor could give no very hopeful answer.
"He's not out of danger," said Doctor Price, "and won't be for several
days. I haven't found several of those shot, and until they're located
I can't tell what will happen. Your son has a good constitution, but
it has been abused somewhat and is not in the best condition to throw
off an injury."
"Do the best you can for him, Doc," said Fetters, "and I'll make it
worth your while. And as for the double-damned scoundrel that shot him
in the dark, I'll rake this county with a fine-toothed comb till he's
found. If Bark dies, the murderer shall hang as high as Haman, if it
costs me a million dollars, or, if Bark gets well, he shall have the
limit of the law.
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