The clothes on the body were torn into strips, and the flesh was gashed
in numerous places. This was the work of the wolf's teeth, which, during
the chase, had repeatedly leaped at the unconscious man, trying to drag
him from the pony's back.
"These wounds are not the worst," said Ted, looking down at Caruthers.
"Off with his clothes, boys, and let us see where his real hurt is."
It did not take long for the boys to get Caruthers' rags stripped from
his body, and Ted bent over him, examining him closely.
"Ah, here it is," he said, as he turned Caruthers over.
"What?" asked the major, crowding in.
"Here in the back," said Ted, pointing to a small, round, bluish hole
just under Caruthers' right shoulder blade.
"By Jove, he's been shot through the body. That's what brought him to
this."
"But how did it happen, I wonder, that he was tied to the back of the
pony?" asked Ted.
"We'll never know until he tells us, probably," said the major. "If,
indeed, he ever is able to do that," he continued, after a slight pause,
looking sorrowfully at the young fellow, who seemed to have breathed his
last.
But Ted's ear was pressed close to his heart, and his fingers sought the
wounded man's pulse.
In a moment he straightened up.
"He's alive--only alive, and no more.
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