When he awoke it was late in the day, and he was surprised to find Blueskin seated by his bedside, watching over him with a drawn sword on his knee, a pistol in each hand, and a blood-stained cloth bound across his brow. That poor child, trying to escape, and not knowing how. He waved a cordial goodbye. Austin was dismissing a host of inquirers who had been attracted thither by the news,—for it had already been extensively noised abroad. "How so?" asked Wild, curiously. .
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