Syd Belton

Chapter 62

"It's all over with the poor lad, sir," groaned Strake. "Better let him die in peace, and I gives myself up, sir. Nothin' but misfortun' here."

"Try and bear it, Pan," said Syd, gently. "I must see where you are hurt before I can do you any good."

But the boy shrieked out wildly every time he was touched, and after many essays, Syd felt ready to give up in despair.

"Ha' mussy on us!" groaned the boatswain. "Where's he got it, sir?"

"I'm afraid it is somewhere in the body, Strake," replied Syd, softly; "but I don't like to give him pain.--Is the hurt in your chest, Pan?"

The boy shrieked again, as a hand was slid into his bosom.

"I'm afraid it is there, Barney; I ought to examine him and stop the bleeding."

"Yes, sir; course you ought; but I don't like to see you hurt the boy."

"No, it is very terrible, but I'll be as gentle as I can. Come, Pan, lad, be a man, and let me see where you are hurt."

Syd touched him again, but there was another yell and kick, not before the boy pressed his chin down in his chest, and cried out more wildly than ever.

"Is his spine injured?" cried Roylance.

"Can't be," replied Syd, "or he could not kick out like he does."

"And for the same reason his legs must be all right," said Roylance.

"Spine of his back and his legs," said Strake; "well, that's something to be thankful for."

"The bullet must have lodged in his chest," said Syd, "and I dare say perhaps has injured him fatally. No blood visible; he must be bleeding inside."

There was a pause after a couple more attempts to inspect the injury.

Then, after a little thought, Syd said, firmly--

"Pan, I must examine your wound."

The boy curled up more tightly.

"It is of no use, Strake," continued Syd, firmly, and unconsciously

A yell burst from Pan at this announcement, and Syd and Roylance exchanged glances.

The patient was evidently quite sensible.

"Smith, hold his legs," said Syd; "Strake, you and Rogers each take an arm. I will be as tender as I can."

"Hadn't we better let him die in peace, sir?" groaned the boatswain.

"No; not till everything has been done to try and save him."

"Oh!" yelled Pan.

"Now then, as softly as you can. Once I see where he is injured, I shall be able to know what to do."

"Very well, sir," said the boatswain, piteously. "There, my poor boy, I won't hurt you much," and he took Pan's arm.

A shriek made him let go and jump away to begin wiping his brow.

"Again: quick, and let's get it done, Strake," whispered Syd. "Ready?

Now then, all together."

"Oh!" yelled Pan, but the men held on, and Syd was about to tear open the boy's s.h.i.+rt, when Rogers exclaimed--

"Sleeve's all wet here, sir," and he pointed to the fleshy part of the boy's arm.

"Oh lor'!" groaned Strake.

"Ah, let me see," cried Syd, eagerly; and he took out and opened his knife.

Pan's eyes were wide open now, and he stared in a horrified manner at the blade.

"No, no, no," he yelled. "I won't have it off; I won't have it off."

"Hold the wrist tight," said Syd.

Rogers obeyed, and with the boy shrieking horribly, the point of the knife was inserted and his sleeve ripped right up to the shoulder.

"Hah!" exclaimed Syd, closing his knife, as he caught sight of the wound in the thick of the arm. "It has not bled much. Hold the light here more closely."

"No, no," yelled Pan. "I won't have it off."

"The bone is all right," said Syd, continuing his examination; "but the bullet must be there. Look: here it is!"

In fact there it was, lying in the sleeve, having pa.s.sed clean through, and of course making a second wound.

"There, that will not hurt," said Syd, coolly. "Now let's see about his chest."

"No," yelled Pan, bursting into a fit of blubbering; "there arn't nothing there. T'other one missed me."

The boatswain drew himself up and seemed to be taking a tremendously long breath.

"I'm very glad, Pan," said Syd. "Now, come, be a man. I'm just going to put a little pellet of rag over those two holes, and bind them up tightly. I won't hurt you much."

"No, no, no," howled Pan; "you'll take it off. I won't have it cut off."

"I tell you I'm going to bandage your arm up, and you'll have it in a sling."

"No, no," yelled Pan.



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