You needn't jump out of your boots! Brace up
now, for I'm going to bring the girls." As I got up to go I heard him
groan. I went round behind the stones and found the girls. "Come on," I
said. "He's awake now, but a little queer. Feverish. He gets that way
sometimes. It won't last long." I led Miss Sampson and Sally back into
the shade of our little camp glade.
Steele had gotten worse all in a moment. Also, the fool had pulled the
bandage off his head; his wound had begun to bleed anew, and the flies
were paying no attention to his weak efforts to brush them away. His
head rolled as we reached his side, and his eyes were certainly wild and
wonderful and devouring enough. "Who's that?" he demanded.
"Easy there, old man," I replied. "I've brought the girls." Miss Sampson
shook like a leaf in the wind.
"So you've come to see me die?" asked Steele in a deep and hollow voice.
Miss Sampson gave me a lightning glance of terror.
"He's only off his head," I said. "Soon as we wash and bathe his head,
cool his temperature, he'll be all right."
"Oh!" cried Miss Sampson, and dropped to her knees, flinging her gloves
aside. She lifted Steele's head into her lap. When I saw her tears
falling upon his face I felt worse than a villain.
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