"
A moment later the storm burst in fact. The rain rushed down on them,
soaking them through in an instant, but Dick, so far from caring, liked
it. It cooled his heated body and brain, and he knew that it was more
likely to help than hurt the wounded who yet lay on the ground.
The lightning ceased before the sweep of the rain, but the lantern was
well protected by its glass cover, and they still searched. The lantern
bearer suddenly uttered a low cry.
"Boys!" he said, "Here's Sam!"
A thick and uncommonly powerful man lay doubled up against a bush.
His face was white. Dick saw that blood had just been washed from it by
the rain. But he could see no rising and falling of the chest, and he
concluded that he was dead.
"Take the lantern, Jim," said the leader. Then he knelt down and put his
finger on his brother's wrist.
"He ain't dead," he said at last. "His pulse is beatin' an' he'll come
to soon. The rain helped him. Whar was he hit? By gum, here it is!
A bullet has ploughed all along the side of his head, runnin' 'roun' his
skull. Here, you Yank, did you think you could kill Sam by shootin' him
in the head with a bullet? We've stood him up in front of our lines,
and let you fellows break fifty pound shells on his head.
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